


A Flicker of Light

by Emma_Swan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: And dealing with things that season 6 didn't, Based on a gifset we made for Tumblr, But Also Some Angst, Established pairing between the Evil Queen and Dark Swan, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor and good fun, Slow build up for Emma and Regina, Smut, adult themes and language, and can't believe their evil halves have procreated, who are just so in denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 102,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Swan/pseuds/Emma_Swan
Summary: The Evil Queen returns from the Wishverse with a baby, and she isn’t the only one. Dark Swan soon follows, and in the confusion of their arrival, Emma and Regina find themselves taking on more than just babysitting their darker halves, and the newborn they share. They must finally deal with the toughest thing they’ve ever had to face: their feelings for one another.





	1. Chapter 1

Snow came to the door with messy, sleep tossed hair, and did a double take as she took in the sight of a most unwelcome guest: the Evil Queen beamed at her and made a grand performance of stepping into the apartment. 

 

In her hand, the Queen tightly clutched an infant carrier. The occupant of the small seat slept soundly under a plush yellow blanket.

 

“I thought you left,” Snow stuttered. “Henry used the author’s pen, and then you vanished—” 

 

“Oh, I did, dear. But now I’m back. And I’ve brought you a gift,” the Queen crooned mischievously as she passed the carrier over to Snow. “Your second grand child. She doesn’t have a name yet. I considered naming her after you, but if we’re following the family tradition, then you’ll have to _die_ first.” Dotingly, the Queen opened the fasteners on the carrier and lifted the baby into her arms.

 

Snow flinched, but she couldn’t help but gaze on in awe at the tenderness and care the Queen showed the child—even as it occurred to her that the Queen was bluffing. The Queen had never been pregnant, and even if she had, that wouldn’t make this infant Snow’s grandchild.

 

“Where did this baby come from?” Snow asked in an alarmed tone of voice, immediately assuming the queen must have stolen it. 

 

Only a month had passed since the Queen had left them, and that was not enough time to have a baby. _Not to mention, Regina could never have children._

 

But as Snow scrutinized the baby’s face, she noticed striking facial features that proved the truth of the Queen’s claim. That meant there was a drastic difference in the time scales of their respective universes. 

 

Stupefied, Snow could only wait for the Queen’s answer. 

 

“I gave you the talk about the birds and the bees, didn’t I? Only this time, there were two queen bees involved and _no birds,_ ” The Queen sneered and glanced around the apartment at all of the bird décor as if it offended her. “Emma is her other mother. I informed her earlier this morning.”

 

“That’s impossible,” Snow insisted, with a stubborn stomp of her foot and scrunch of her eyebrows. “Emma would never–”

 

“Maybe not your Emma - not the repressed savior, who would do whatever it takes to please you,” the Queen declared.

 

With a crackle of the air, Dark Swan appeared behind the Queen with a solemn look on her face. And at the exact same time, Emma burst through the door with her mouth agape. 

 

“I knew it was you!” Emma sputtered. “I thought I was hallucinating earlier when I was at work and saw you through the window. What the hell are you doing here?”

 

The Evil Queen grinned sinisterly and passed the baby off to Emma. “Congratulations,” she purred. “It’s a girl. And we need you to babysit tonight. If she cries, just call Regina.”

 

Dark Swan stood behind her, not blinking except when the Queen implied that Emma wouldn’t be able to handle the baby alone. “I think Emma can deal with changing a few dirty diapers, giving the kid a bottle, and putting her to bed on time. She doesn’t need anyone’s help –”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Emma blinked, cringing at herself and then looking down at the baby in her arms. She glanced at her mother, who was on the verge of demanding an explanation. “Mom. Regina and I were looking for a spell. It must have backfired. I felt something. It has to explain the presence of my other Half--”

 

“And how does that account for the child?” Snow asked defensively, standing with her arms crossed. “Which apparently your Evil halves share –”

 

The Evil Queen straightened her spine and pretended to dust off her thick leather outfit. 

 

“That’s a question I also want answers to--” Dark Swan pressed her lips together. It was a subtle show of displeasure over the Queen’s failure to clue her in about the baby. “I don’t even know our daughter’s name.” 

 

The infant looked to be mere months old. 

 

When the Evil Queen turned to peer down again at the child, she dropped her acerbic tone and over-the-top mannerisms. She gathered the little one back into her arms, rocking ever so gently as a whimper rose from the baby’s lips. “I still haven’t chosen a name for her,” she breathed, and then waved her hand at Dark Swan. “I wouldn’t do that without you.” 

 

“Why not?” Dark Swan husked moodily. “You did everything else without me.”

 

“Well, not everything,” the Queen snickered. “There were _some things_ we did together.” 

 

Snow gazed on in horror, while Emma blushed furiously and the Queen stood triumphantly. 

 

“Shall we go now?” The Queen asked, offering her arm to Dark Swan. 

 

“We should be back no later than eleven,” Swan stated severely, and then they were gone. 

 

“This can’t be happening!” Emma blurted to the dissipating cloud of magic. 

 

A quick onset panic attack had the tendons in Emma’s neck straining as she tried to breathe. The baby in her arms coiled a tiny fist around her pinky finger and gurgled happily. In turn, her own chin wobbled as a rush of emotion hit her. 

 

“Emma…” Snow whispered, still stunned by the appearance of an old foe and the darkest parts of her daughter. “I think it’s safe to say it already has.” Her eyes lowered to the infant, and the confusion and alarm she felt melted slightly. “You have a girl,” she murmured, and despite the circumstances, Snow felt herself smiling even as her eyes watered. It didn’t last long as she remembered who with, and her tone betrayed how perplexed she felt as she admonished, “With The Evil Queen, apparently. Why her?”

 

Emma couldn’t answer the question. All she could do was stare at the little bundle of wriggling limbs in her arms as her world shifted beneath her forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read and enjoyed, we so appreciate kudos, and especially comments! (We reply to every one). :)


	2. Chapter 2

Across town, rain splashed heavily onto the ground – thunderous fat droplets that washed away the sound of footsteps and passing conversations. 

 

The dull grey sky cast everything in its shadow, including the Dark Swan as she pushed open the door to The Singing Apple and waited for The Evil Queen to step inside. It was a cut above Granny’s, and far enough from the center of town that nobody should dare bother them.

 

Soft candlelight gave the illusion of privacy, but the back of the Italian restaurant offered the most secluded seating. So it was with purpose that Dark Swan led them to the table tucked away from sight, her precise steps calculated and the echo of her heels a warning of danger. Only once they were seated did she finally husk, “You owe me answers. Now give me them.”

 

“Buy me a drink first,” The Queen coaxed, and settled against one of the cushioned lounges with a pleased little smirk on her face. She let her eyes roam across the quiet bar, but inevitably they landed back on Swan – her slick hair and no-nonsense, stern expression. “I always wondered why your hair is white, but with all of that brooding and worrying you do, it’s beginning to make sense.”

 

The Evil Queen playfully gripped at the Dark One’s leathers and pulled her closer. “I suppose you want to know why I didn’t tell you until now,” she murmured. “You were far away. Did you expect me to come to you? Or send a messenger?”

 

Dark Swan’s eyes never left the Queen’s, but she did lift her hand up to signal the waiter wordlessly. She didn’t need to look to know she had his attention. “You ask that as if we’re nothing more than passing acquaintances, when you know we’re so much more than that.” Swan quirked an eyebrow at The Queen’s hand on her arm, and though she made no attempt to remove it, there was no hint of amusement in her eyes either as she watched the woman’s darkly painted nails tease over the leather.

 

“I’m not in the mood for games, _your majesty._ ” She drawled quietly. “We have a child together and you never bothered to contact me about it until now.” The muscles in Swan’s jaw twitched despite her efforts to conceal how that bothered her. Telltale emotions stirred beneath her carefully crafted stoicism like the building pressure of a volcano ready to erupt.

 

The Evil Queen loosened her hold on Swan and sat back, putting some much needed distance between them. “You think this is a game?” she quietly taunted. “If so, it’s one of your own invention. You were the one who left, and I decided not to immediately inform you about the outcome of our private ‘engagements.’ It’s your turn now to make the next move.” She stared deeply into Swan’s green eyes, and tenderly trailed the back of a finger along her chin. When it seemed they might kiss, she turned her head subtly and evaded with a gentle grin. “Are you offended that I didn’t invite you to tuck our daughter in at night, and read her a bedtime story?” she sneered. “If you’re willing, I’ll let you tuck me in…”

 

The question hung between them as the Dark Swan considered just exactly what kind of move to make. 

 

The darkness inside of Swan unfurled offensively to whisper in her mind. It spoke of all the ways Swan could, _should_ , remind the Queen exactly what she was and of the power she possessed. The Queen’s light touches and warm breath only fueled the corrupted urges. 

 

“You’re hurt...” Swan breathed out softly. One hand raised to cup The Queen’s cheek soundly against her palm, as tender as it would have their newborn child if she’d been given half the chance. Short, sharp nails, raked slowly and deliberately down The Queen’s neck until her throat was clasped tightly in Swan’s fist. The table dug into her ribcage as she pressed the side of her face against The Queen’s, her lips ghosting across the woman’s ear as she spoke in an almost lullaby tone, “I grew up without a mother. If you taunt me about all that I’ve missed with our daughter again, she’ll grow up with only one.” Swan sat back just as the waiter returned with the leather bound menus; she took both and handed one to The Queen before waving her hand and transforming the water pitcher into a long thin vase with blood red roses. “Now, let’s enjoy a delicious meal together, hm?”

 

The Queen pushed her chin out and swallowed hard as she touched the scratch mark on her neck--yet as she pulled her hand away, she gave the blood on her fingertips no more than a cursory glance and folded a napkin into her lap. "Delicious, indeed," she softly purred and conjured a tray of tiny appetizers, which she plucked up eagerly and forced against Swan’s lips. "Eat up, dear. You're going to need energy if you plan to convince me that you're strong enough to make good on any of your threats. The last time we had a disagreement, I recall I had you begging without dignity." Perhaps she sensed that Swan took these matters seriously, and meant every word of her death threat, yet the Queen refused to show weakness.

 

Swan took the appetizer with a snap of her teeth, grazing The Queen’s fingertips before she had the chance to smear it against her mouth. Her lips curled at the corners, a lazy smirk transforming her face while she settled back into the chair. “Is that how you remember it?” With idle fingers, she flipped through the menu, then paused to stroke down the center of the pages thoughtfully. “As I recall it, you were… hesitant, at best, and all it took was a few little words and suddenly, I wasn’t the one on my knees anymore.” Tilting her head, a flicker of amusement sparkled within Swan’s eyes as she toyed with the Queen. “In fact, it wasn’t long until you were begging me, but I suppose it’s not very Queen-like to go around admitting you enjoy anal sex.” Swan signaled the waiter back over with a grin, “Another appletini?”

 

"I give orders - I don't beg. And I'd be happy to admit all of my predilections, but as it so happens, you're rather clumsy -- so I'll give you no such praise for your performance in _that_ particular area." The Queen gestured to the bartender to bring the appletini, and she drank deeply until she drained the glass and grinned widely around its brim. "Planning to get me drunk enough that I'll accept some of your wild propositions tonight? Or are you simply plying me with alcohol so that I'll be brutally honest with you, instead of just brutal? It's not like I took our daughter away and raised her for a decade without telling you. Are you really so wounded that I kept her a secret, instead of confiding in you about my condition?"

 

The stinging remarks and acerbic back and forth held an edge of comfort. It could be considered foreplay at times when it came to the two of them. So when the back and forth of half-hearted insults stopped, so did the amusement in Swan’s gaze--replaced entirely by a deep sadness that threatened to swallow the room. It lasted mere seconds before she composed herself but it carried in her quiet words. “I realize that to a lot of people I am every bit the monster I look, and I can handle that. But for you to see me as so heartless that I wouldn’t want to be there during those months? Thinking I’d rather be anywhere else than beside you as you gave birth -- as my, _our,_ daughter took her first breath? Of course I’m wounded by it.”

 

The Queen affected an air of indifference, and even went so far as to raise her nose in the air and muster a bitter, cruel laugh. But she fell into startled silence at Swan's confession, and raw emotion gleamed in her wet eyes -- fright and vulnerability that she tried her best to cover up. "How pathetic," she taunted, although her voice sounded flat and scratchy. "I suppose you do still have a shred of human decency left. I assumed nothing could break you, but looking at you now, it's become quite clear that you would shatter if I turned my back on you." She could use this information to her advantage with Swan, but lurking underneath her self-assured and callous act was a glimmer of something she dared not acknowledge. 

 

There was a time and place for bravado. In the quiet corner of the restaurant, watching The Queen sneer and puff herself up like an ambivalent, egotistical peacock, Swan couldn’t help but look at her with pity. Bravado was all the woman had to clutch at, it seemed, from the unshed tears in her eyes she furiously blinked away. 

 

Evidently Swan’s honesty had unsettled The Queen enough to make her lash out in familiar ways. “All the vitriol you spew would almost be believable if you hadn’t wanted to start a family with me.” Swan stated softly, “Make no mistake, I’d never shatter if you turned your back on me. You want a life with me, and you’re hurt that I was gone for so long. That’s why you’re lashing out now. So, you can continue to lie to yourself and we’ll carry on with this little charade until the ogres come home, or you can admit to yourself that you want us to be a family, and that we’re on our first date as parents.” A glass of wine appeared to be plucked out of thin air, and Swan took a sip as she eyed The Queen thoughtfully. “Your choice.”

 

The Evil Queen froze in discomfort and warily re-assessed Swan, then licked her lips as she seemed to consider the best way to deflect. She always knew where she stood with Swan in their elaborate powerplay, and neither of them had ever fully given the other an upper hand: at the best of times, their interests were aligned and they avoided deliberately sabotaging each other. At the worst, the Queen provoked Swan and brought out a violent streak in her, just to test Swan's limits and patience. 

 

This open and honest dialogue between them was new, and in some way it felt like Swan finally had the upper hand on her. "You would like me to admit that, wouldn't you?" the Queen asked, but her voice was devoid of the rancor that typically was present when she posed a rhetorical question. She sounded soft, almost wistful and she mooned over the thought of them being a family. "I gave birth to your child, so I would say we're bound together now, like it or not. If you want to consider this a date, you should have brought more flowers. Or leather handcuffs for later." She quirked her eyebrow suggestively, and then tugged the glass out of Swan's hand to take a sip -- it was her own little way of toasting the occasion. "I must admit, I can't wait to see the look on Regina's face when she realizes her bloodline has been continued after all. I wonder what she'll have to say about our Charming little bastard--"

 

Swan’s eyes -- they were focused entirely on The Queen. Picking up every slight twitch of muscle and shift in posture. Knowing someone, and understanding what made them tick could be considered an art form--but being able to read them when they tried their damnedest to hide it under a mask of semi-insanity and psychopathy? That was a true gift. “Fascinating choice of words to describe us, don’t you think? Bound together. There are only so many things that can be binding. Magic and spells of course, contracts…” _Marriage,_ the darkness supplied effortlessly. 

 

Swan blinked slowly and tilted her head back just enough to look The Queen dead in the eyes. “I wonder where your mind went to choose that.” It made sense, in retrospect. Having Swan’s child certainly tied them together, but even so, The Queen no doubt would rather bite off her own tongue and choke on the blood rather than entertain the notions of what her true desires were. What a happy family they made. The darkness, the demented, and the daughter they would raise together. “You want flowers or leather handcuffs? How about leather flowers? The best of both worlds.” Swan quipped with a flick of her wrist. The entrées vanished to be replaced by a bouquet of them. Leather petals and dark stalks were covered sparsely with thorns of metal. 

 

With mischief lighting up her eyes and a self – satisfied grin curling at her lips, the Queen bobbed a little in her seat. But she sneered over the talk of contracts, and ignored the flowers for the time being as she waved her hand dismissively, “If you want to trifle with words, then feel free. I know what you’re thinking, and I already married into your family before,” she spat. “Trust me, I won’t ever make that mistake again.” She reached for her fork, but just as she was able to poke at the pasta on her plate, the whole meal had disappeared. “See? Your attempts to woo me have always gone terribly wrong,” she sighed impatiently, and returned their plates to the table – although she kept the leather flowers and admired them briefly before also retrieving her mirror. “Let’s see what our other selves are up to on this fine evening, shall we?” 

 

Clutching the small looking glass against her palm, she stared back at her own face, and Swan’s stark white hair and serious facial expression. Then the mirror began to ripple like water and two identical but different faces appeared within it – moving around, and fussing over their crying daughter. “Idiots. She’s unhappy.”

 

Swan only rolled her eyes before shifting in her seat to look into the mirror.


	3. Chapter 3

“Give her back to me. This isn’t helping,” Emma growled out. Her tongue felt thick and foreign in her own mouth as the words passed her lips. 

 

The last thing she wanted to do was deal with a shrieking child, but the second her mother intervened she suddenly found herself wanting that squirming ball of screams back in her arms. It unnerved her to realize that, and disturbed her the more she thought about it. “Give me the kid, and go call Regina. She’ll know how to fix it.”

 

Limbs flailing and chin quivering, the baby rebelled against Snow’s attempts at comfort, no matter how gently she spoke. Yet her soft tone remained steady as she shot her daughter a distraught look and cooed, more for the baby’s sake than anyone else, “Emma, it’s a baby, not a pothole, there’s nothing to fix!”

 

“I don’t mean the baby--” 

 

Frustrated, and unwilling to dwell on the semantics of who the parents were, Emma stepped in front of Snow and very carefully, albeit awkwardly, took the infant back into her arms. She cradled the baby like the melon she bought at the store the other day.

 

The screeching almost dropped a decibel, but only enough to warble a warning that this wasn’t over. “Call Regina. Now. And get her over here now before our darker selves gallivant through town wreaking havoc! And you…baby...” Emma frowned, and held the baby up to look at the chubby little face, all red and blotchy from tears. That was when the smell hit her, and she grimaced. “You come with me and I’ll change that diaper.”

 

Snow shifted her weight from foot to foot indecisively, and then in desperation bolted for the phone to call Regina. “Regina,” she breathlessly whimpered. “I need you to come over. It’s Em—” Her daughter’s name was barely on her lips, but Regina’s familiar cloud of purple magic swelled and evaporated in the kitchen.

 

“What is it?” Regina asked frantically, and combed her fingers through her hair to make herself more presentable. She wore steel grey silk pajamas and a dark blue bathrobe knotted around her middle. “Is Emma in danger?” Her voice hitched as if the thought frightened her, but then her brows furrowed as she heard the caterwaul of a child and followed the noise to its source. “In deep shit, apparently,” she remarked, wrinkling her nose as she rolled up her sleeves. “But not the kind we’re both accustomed to dealing with as of late. Mind if I take over?” 

 

Startled by the sudden appearance of Regina, Emma’s instinctive reaction was to guiltily blurt out her name. “Regina! I, uh—yeah.” 

 

With a packet of wipes Emma produced from someone’s leather diaper bag, Regina cleaned the baby and applied a fresh diaper. The baby seemed fixated on Regina’s face and squealed with delight as she reached out for her.

 

Regina beamed, and scooped the suddenly happier baby into her arms. “What is your name, little one?” she asked, and eyed Emma in expectation of an answer. “Did someone drop her off at the sheriff station, or are you babysitting for one of Snow’s friends? Those princesses do spend a lot of their time breeding, don’t they?”

 

“Evidently they’re not the only ones,” Emma murmured cautiously, much to the chagrin of Snow who cleared her throat and inclined her head towards Regina as if by chance Emma had forgotten why they’d called her in the first place.

 

 _So eloquent, so stupid,_ Emma thought bitterly to herself. How ridiculous she must look standing there, mouth agape, while mindlessly clutching a bottle of talc. It was simultaneously strange and comforting to see Regina holding the baby. _A baby. Their baby? No. Fuck, how was she going to explain any of this without sounding insane? Without upending their lives forever?_

 

“Regina we uh--” The inside of Emma’s mouth felt arid. “We have a, a...” Every time she tried to swallow, her throat stuck. The baby gurgled, a happy little sound as tiny fists opened and closed around nothing in excitement.

 

Emma wasn’t sure why that broke her heart. Maybe because it brought back memories of giving Henry up for adoption, of missing out on his infancy. Or the obscure thought that her darker counterpart was now experiencing that disconnect from yet another child. “Problem.” Emma finally stated thickly, but when she tried to speak all that came out was half- truths and bullshit. “They dropped her off without any baby formula.” Quickly, she changed the subject without any effort at all as she motioned towards Regina with a curious, “Why are you in your pajamas? It’s like eight o’clock.”

 

Regina tipped her head to the side in the confusion. Her mouth hung open as her eyebrows stitched together, and she carefully considered Emma’s question. “I like to retire early and read in bed,” she responded.

 

“Since when?” The incredulous tone might have been exaggerated a tad. Emma was attempting to delay the inevitable while knowing it was purely in vain. “You never change out of your sensible pantsuits until virtually everyone in town is sleeping.” It sounded close to being accusatory, though her gaze dragged over the robe then back to Regina’s face before Emma could control herself. The tip of her tongue found the back of her teeth—a subtle tick that made her chin jut out, as if reflecting the notion that she might start a fight, despite having no reason to do so.

 

Regina ignored Emma’s strange combativeness and with a snap of her fingers, changed back into black slacks and a white button down shirt. Then she began rifling through the leather diaper bag in search of formula. “The formula is right here,” she frowned. “You don’t need to make excuses, Emma. If you need my help with babysitting, all you have to do is ask.” Hoisting the baby up into her arms, she smiled into the little one’s face and carried her over to the couch. With magic, she prepared a perfectly warm bottle and lifted the milk to the baby’s lips. The baby moved her head slightly in protest, rejecting the artificial nipple and letting out a screech of dissatisfaction. 

 

“Oh, dear,” Regina sighed, glancing up at Emma and Snow in concern. “She might not be hungry, or perhaps she just wants her parents.” The newborn made soft sucking noises as Regina cradled her closer. “She’s so tiny, isn’t she? I don’t know what kind of mother would leave her alone so soon.” 

 

Snow practically turned purple as she tried not to blurt out an explanation of what was going on and point out Regina’s apparent hypocrisy. She frantically glanced at Emma and gestured to convey the need for urgency. 

 

Forcing a huffed breath out to try and dislodge the tension, Emma realized she had to face the facts and suck it up, before Snow popped a blood vessel and painted the room red.

 

“About that—we—uh—we really need to talk…” Emma sent Snow a glare that should have shooed her away, but all it did was strengthen her mother’s resolve to remain right where she was—arms crossed angrily with perhaps the most disapproving motherly look Emma had ever seen on her face. 

 

Stressed by her presence, Emma turned her back on Snow to gently clasp Regina’s elbow and guide her towards the couch for a bit more privacy.

 

“See, the kid, she’s…” 

 

The speed at which Emma’s heart beat could have rivaled a hummingbird's— the tingle in her lips vaguely broke through her thoughts as a warning that at any moment she might hyperventilate. A small part hoped she might die instead, considering Regina might just kill her anyway. 

 

Emma couldn’t look Regina in the eye, and made the mistake of staring at the kid instead. “You’re right. She is really small,” Emma murmured, as if registering that for the first time. “I mean, she’s—uh—okay, here’s the thing. Remember when we thought the best thing to do was to get rid of the darkest parts of you? Well, it turns out, she found mine, and we might have brought them here…”

 

Regina raised her shoulders in dismay and uttered a startled, “What! How? I resolved my own issues, and you – you never really rid yourself of the darkness, but you overcame it. Now you’re telling me that the Evil Queen and some version of Dark Swan are just traipsing around Storybrooke?” The baby started to close her eyes and began to fall asleep in Regina’s arms. She placed the infant into her carrier, but kept one hand on the baby’s leg to gently reassure and soothe. The diaper bag attracted her closer attention, and Regina drew her own conclusions instantly. 

 

“This baby – is she mine?” Regina blurted, but then corrected herself: “ _Hers._ ” She looked at the baby in amazement—considering every detail of the little face, mouth and nose in a new light as she held her breath in silence. “She does have a family resemblance,” she wearily admitted. “But Emma, I don’t think her mother is the Evil Queen – not the one who took Henry’s one-way trip to the… Alternative Enchanted Forest. She might be someone else entirely. That is the only possibility—because otherwise she wouldn’t be capable of having children. Did she happen to mention anything about a father?” 

 

Belatedly, through the fog in her mind, Emma heard Regina’s words echo back at her and cringed. “Father?” Emma choked on the word, and found herself fixated on the baby. “I mean, technically there isn’t one. When I said the Evil Queen and Dark Swan found each other, what I meant was, they uh—they kind of—she’s…” Stumbling incoherently over her words, Emma had no choice but to blurt out the only thing she knew. “ _Mine. The kid is ours! Theirs._ ” 

 

Regina burst into nervous laughter, and then turned away from Emma to gaze back down at their suddenly wailing baby. The infant seemed to pick up on stress with no trouble at all, and tested out her new lungs with a few high-pitched and full-force screams.

 

In a panic set off by the knowledge that she—at least some part of her—was the awful mother who left the baby too soon, Regina gathered the little one into her arms and gently swayed back and forth. The situation might have reminded her too much of her early days with Henry. 

 

“This can’t possibly be happening!” Regina insisted almost desperately. “This must be part of some twisted scheme!” 

 

In spite of her apparent disbelief, Regina now held the newborn differently—with a fierce protectiveness about her. “You know what? I’ll handle everything. I’ll take our daughter home with me.” 

 

Regina hesitated and worriedly hung her head in contemplation. “Magic must have done this,” she concluded. “I just hope neither the Evil Queen nor Dark Swan is planning to use our own flesh and blood in some kind of plot to undo us all—” 

 

The swift change in attitude, coupled with the wild look in Regina’s eyes set alarm bells off for Emma. In different circumstances it might be fascinating to see the machinations in her head take place, but not like this, and not right now. With strong, deceptively gentle hands, she scooped the baby out of Regina’s arms before she could follow through with her idea to run off with the infant. “Oookay, let’s just breathe and think clearly before going straight to kidnapping the baby.”

 

That seemed to jump start Snow, who moved immediately to comfort Regina with a reassuring embrace that doubled as a buffer between her and her daughter. “I think we can all agree that this is startling but we need to remember that the parents are coming back right after their…” Snow faltered, and waved her hand in the air uselessly.

 

“Date?” Emma supplied hesitantly, her cheeks turning bright with embarrassment. She carried on quickly as if to push the observation far away, “Look I don’t think they came here willingly to destroy our lives or to use the kid against us. I think we messed up one of our spells and accidentally brought them here.” With one hand, she began to gently pat the baby’s diaper, the soft motion evidently pleasing as the little one settled and latched her tiny fist around a lock of Emma’s golden hair. “We can’t just take her, Regina. Remember how you felt when The Queen tried to do the same with Henry. It wasn’t right back then, and it isn’t right now.”

 

Regina swallowed against the tightness in her throat as she listened to Emma’s clearheaded perspective on the troubling situation. “But we have to remember that we’re not dealing with people who care about what is right or what is wrong the way that we do. Frankly, I just want what’s best for this child. I don’t want her to be raised by another evil version of myself. You’ve already seen what lessons she tried to pass on to our son. If she seems the slightest bit threatening when I encounter her, then I will not be handing our daughter over.” She realized only afterward how strained her voice sounded – how her nostrils flared vehemently as she spoke of the Queen. Her hands shook and she lowered them to her side. 

 

Snow rubbed Regina’s shoulder, and then smiled weakly at the little girl in Emma’s arms. “We should wait and see what happens,” she quietly suggested. “Emma might be right. Perhaps this version of the Queen is actually more like you – more like the woman who changed. In that case, we can return her child to her, and help find a way to send her home. Why don’t the two of you go and look for a spell? Or at least locate the one that brought them here. I don’t mind babysitting—“

 

Regina drew her arms around her midsection and avoided looking at Snow. “We don't need a spell. Henry wrote a Happy Ending for my Other Half,” she muttered. “I am sure he can do it again. But he’s on a date with Violet tonight, and he deserves to have fun. I won’t interrupt him. We’ll just have to wait until he gets home – and until the Queen and Dark Swan reappear.” She stepped away from Snow and walked off around the kitchen table, putting some further distance between them. 

 

Snow shared a look with Regina, but it was lost on Emma. The baby’s face scrunched up in a yawn, and in the brief quiet, a series of small pops reverberated through the diaper. Wide eyed, Emma exhaled a breath that sounded suspiciously close to laughter, “She just farted.” 

 

“Aww,” Snow cooed, stepping closer, only to catch a whiff of the stench and reflexively gag. “Oh, wow, she definitely gets that from you,” she directed towards Emma with a hand covering her nose.

 

“Hey!” Emma spat back incredulously, tucking the infant against herself as if shielding her from hurtful comments.

 

“Seriously, my eyes are watering,” Snow confided to Regina, moving out of the fart radius.

 

“Don’t listen to her,” Emma mumbled to the dozing child, and then frowned as she considered all that had been said. “Wait, Regina, maybe that’s it. Henry wrote the Queen a happy ending. Maybe having the kid was part of that.”

 

Silence lingered as Emma waited for a response, until she finally caught the doubting, if not downright mocking way Regina stared at her. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” she huffed, clearly disgruntled but unable to show it with a baby in her arms. “Think about it for a second, come on. Henry is, and will always be, part of your happy ending. Hell, he’s part of mine, so why wouldn’t a kid be part of The Evil Queen’s? You said it yourself, loving Henry helped you become the woman you are now, and if Henry wrote her a happy ending...”

 

Emma smugly trailed off, golden eyebrows arched as if daring them to prove her wrong in the face of such brilliant argumentation. “All I’m saying is that I doubt the kid is part of some elaborate scheme to mess with us. We probably brought our other halves here – they didn’t just decide to arrive on our doorstep. Well, not initially.” Emma frowned.

 

Regina lifted a baby blanket from the carrier and steered Emma towards the couch with their sleeping daughter. “I still don’t understand how any of this could have happened. Our spell shouldn't have caused this… unexpected surprise. We just need to conserve our energy so we can deal with ourselves when they return from their ‘meeting’....” 

 

Regina had selected her words carefully, and she was obviously still in denial that there was any romantic involvement between Swan and the Queen. Stealing a quick glance in Snow’s direction, she felt her face go hot – but she busied herself by tucking a blanket around the chubby baby in Emma’s lap. "Now would be a wonderful time to offer me a drink," she told Snow, who merely nodded and went off to fetch a bottle of wine. That gave her a moment alone to glance down at Emma, searchingly -- but her own perplexed and almost wounded expression seemed to be mirrored back at her. "Perhaps we shouldn't stay here. With your family, I mean… when we confront ourselves – "

 

Sinking into the couch, Emma’s lips parted at Regina’s choice of words – and her own stilled on her tongue momentarily, then were swallowed thickly. Perhaps she ought to think before speaking when Regina seemed so inscrutable. “I feel like we should stop, you know, calling them _us_. I get it, I know what you mean but it’s…” 

 

The tip of her tongue anxiously wet her lips. “It’s too weird,” Emma sighed. “This kid isn’t ours. She’s theirs, and we can’t go blurring the lines on that.” 

 

Sensing that might not sit well with Regina, Emma shifted slightly and changed the subject. “Maybe getting out of here and going back to my place would help – it’s neutral ground away from everyone else.” If a scene broke out she’d feel better knowing nobody else heard it, especially when The Queen spoke her mind in such pointedly, blunt ways that aimed to taunt and humiliate in equal measures. 

 

Somehow, without questioning it, Emma knew if a confrontation happened in front of Snow, the likelihood of sexual remarks would be increased tremendously. “Or better yet, let’s just send my parents to my place, and stay here since this is where they expect to pick the kid up. Bonus – you can look through their cupboards and drawers while we wait.”

 

Regina didn't instantly refuse Emma’s suggestion, but her body language gave away her discomfort and very different point of view. “How are you going to convince your parents to up and leave in the middle of the night? It’s easier if we just go. Dark Swan and the Queen will figure out where we are, because they think like us. And yes, I am willing to concede that they might be different people, but I still feel responsible for them and for this – child. What is her name again?” 

 

Regina’s agitation could only be described as palpable. Emma felt it against her skin like angry hands pressing forcefully at her shoulders. “Yeah we’ll just hang a sign on the door saying _‘took the baby back to my house, see you there’_ , I’m sure nobody will over react to that.” 

 

In all honesty the sarcasm had flowed out of her freely of its own will, but Emma shook her head instead as if to diffuse the tension building in the room. “I don’t know her name and no, we’re not giving her one because she isn’t ours.” That added to the tension, but there was something about Regina’s attitude in general that gnawed at Emma, and before she could properly form the thought, she was already narrowing her eyes and asking, “Is it the fact that it’s our darker parts that’s bothering you, or that they’re together?”

 

Regina picked up on the touch of accusation in Emma’s tone and instantly overreacted. “All of it bothers me,” she spat insensitively. “Don’t you find it peculiar?” She seemed wholly dismissive of the notion that the Evil Queen and Dark Swan were romantically involved, and yet she softened as she watched Emma holding the baby. “This is a disaster. They’ll just end up hurting each other, both of us – and our daughter. A relationship between them will never work out.” With her hand propped on one hip, she faltered as if in expectation of a counterargument from Emma. 

 

Every ounce of tenderness funneled into Emma’s arms as she kept the infant cradled against her body, protecting her from the harsh words and flaring tempers that surrounded her. It would be so easy to slip into the madness of the situation. Yet the sharp edge of her tongue made it resoundingly clear that she would resist it with everything she had. “For the last time, she’s not ours!” Emma spat viciously into the space between them. “What do you care if they end up hurting each other? You think we didn’t already do that over the years?”

 

Behind them, Snow stepped back into the room, caught what the argument was about, and promptly pivoted to exit again. She could listen without interrupting by standing next to the door, safely, out of sight.

 

Emma’s lips pressed into thin white lines that strained with her building emotions. In an effort not to be sucked into the notion of the baby being theirs, she barely registered why Regina’s insinuations riled her so much. So she paced, and let words spew from her instead. “Who are you to say their relationship won’t work out, huh? You ever think that maybe, since they're both dealing with their own darkness, and their own loneliness, that out of everyone in their land, they understand each other the most?”

 

"Why are you so quick to come to their defense?" Regina huffed challengingly, and her eyes flashed with misplaced rage that did little to cover up raw emotion. She stalked back and forth restlessly, but modulated her voice lest she inadvertently disturb the baby. 

 

“We don’t know which Queen and which Dark One we’re even dealing with – but assuming that Evil Queen is the one I sent back to the Enchanted Forest, then she’s my other half,” Regina spat. “And I know myself very well – enough to know that she’ll completely tear any version of you apart. I suppose you think your Darker Half is capable of handling her, but even now that my love is in the Queen’s heart, I have serious doubts.” 

 

Rubbing her hands together as she thought about all of the possible resolutions, Regina’s face lit up with an idea. “We can intervene. Worst case scenario, our meddling will end their relationship. Or maybe… just maybe… they’ll somehow manage to show me that I’m wrong. But that’s very unlikely.” Her eyes were wide from desperate plotting, but she sobered as the baby started to wail again. “Here… let me take her,” she demanded, and lifted the infant out of Emma’s arms. 

 

“She has your smile, and your chin,” Regina stated quietly, and then she created soft magical lights to distract and soothe the little one. “And she’s easily amused. Just like you.” She peered back at Emma, and settled into the spot beside her with the baby tucked into her arms. “By the way, Snow, I know you're just around the corner eavesdropping. You might as well join us and participate in the conversation if you're going stick around." 

 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping so much as staying out of the line of fire, which in your case Regina, is more often than not, _literal._ ” Snow sighed, her footsteps landing as heavily as her ass when she dropped onto the chair across from the two of them with a frown across her face. “This might not be any of my business—”

 

“It isn’t.” Emma chimed in quickly, much to her mother’s chagrin.

 

“But—” Snow bit off the word with a snap of her teeth, “You’re both right, and wrong. Emma, we have no idea which versions of The Dark One and The Evil Queen are here, and while you’re right that they haven’t done any harm so far, it doesn’t mean that together they won’t bring their own unique brand of chaos to town. Baby or not, that’s something we need to be prepared for.”

 

At the snort and the look of I-Told-You-So from Regina, Snow abruptly scolded, “I’m not finished.” She shifted slightly to gaze back at Regina and then steepled her fingers together. “Just because we don’t know if these versions of your darker selves are the ones we know, or not, doesn’t mean they can’t raise a child together. Deciding to sabotage their relationship would help out _who, exactly_? Not that little girl you're holding right now, that’s for sure.” Snow’s face softened as she released a slow, deep breath. “Regina, you can’t just decide that you know what’s best for her, and thinking you can will only bring pain to all of you.”

 

“I take it back,” Regina announced dramatically, with a testy scrunch of her nose. “You can go stand in the corner and eavesdrop all you want, as long as you keep your opinions to yourself.” Her tone revealed that she was merely teasing, but her eyes showed just how Snow’s words affected her and how much heartache she felt. 

 

Vulnerably, Regina clung to the little one cradled in her arms and then impulsively passed her over to Snow. “When my heart merged again with the Evil Queen’s, I realized something. She wanted the love of this family, even in her most destructive state. Don’t get me wrong: she still blamed you for her unhappiness, even after all of these years. But what you don’t know is how deeply your words stung her, how your total rejection of her made her feel like she would always be alone. That fear of loneliness is what drives her madness. I don’t want to take her daughter away from her, but the truth is – even though I’ve made peace with her, the fact that she’s here doesn’t seem like an accident, spell or not. We might have unresolved business.” She refused to stare into Snow’s eyes, and instead folded her hands together and focused her attention on them. “You’re the Queen’s toughest critic, apart from me. When she returns, if you’re secure in giving her this baby, then I won’t protest. Emma, what do you think of that plan? You already seem prepared to do that, so I assume you won’t object—” 

 

Emma brushed the hair away from her forehead in a thinly veiled attempt to hide the tension that had worked its way into her face. Looking at her mom holding the baby, so small and sleepy, left a pain she couldn’t quite describe in her chest. “I agree.” She finally sighed, then risked a glance at Regina. “Why don’t you and I get a drink in the kitchen?” After all, Snow had mysteriously forgotten to bring the bottle of wine back with her once she’d been caught listening in on their talk.

 

Regina moved her jaw as she winced, and slid off the couch with a gentle nod. “I could do with a drink, yes,” she muttered. 

 

 

The image of Emma and Regina blurred and faded before dissipating all together. Dark Swan closed the compact mirror with a sharp snap, and side-eyed The Queen. “And you thought _we_ had problems,” she stated dryly. Leaning back in the seat, she brought her elbows up to rest along the booth behind her, as if she were comfortably at home and not in a restaurant. “Say what you will about the two of us, but at least we’re honest when it comes to attraction. How did you ever get so repressed?” The question, though light, held an incredulous tone. That wasn’t exactly fair though, was it? To act as if it were all Regina. “Not that my other half is any better,” she finally conceded, her lips twisting as if disgusted by the display she’d seen.

 

“If they’re going to meddle in our relationship, I don’t see any reason why we can’t meddle in theirs,” the Queen declared, baring her teeth in a victorious and wolfish grin. “Let’s play their little game, shall we? Except our goal will be to get them into bed together. I _do_ love voyeurism. But there should be rules, of course: no masquerading as them, no magic tricks, and no calculations that involve our daughter. To make it interesting, we’ll say that Emma is my pawn, and Regina is yours to manipulate.” The Queen bubbled with excitement at this new diversion, and sipped her wine as she contemplated all of the fun they were going to have. “If Regina’s positively begging for it in the end, then you’re the winner. If Emma succumbs first, then I win. And there’s the question of the prize. What are you willing to put on the table?”

 

One of Swan’s golden eyebrows raised at the ecstatic suggestion, though from the stolid look on dark Swan’s face, it was hard to tell that she was intrigued. Far be it from her to point out that the only one planning to interfere with their relationship was Regina. Why spoil the fun of the wager on semantics? 

 

The Darkness permeated Swan’s thoughts with gleeful whispers of encouragement. Of course, it did have a predilection for betting. Even if it didn’t, Swan felt the urge to take the proposition. “Alright, I accept.” She husked, pausing to ensure The Queen listened. “But with another condition. No sleeping with each other’s counterparts. I’m all for manipulation and stringing them along in order to get them together, but as you said - nothing that could involve our daughter, and _that_?” Swan smirked, sitting up only to invade The Queen’s personal space by means of whispering mere millimeters from her lips, “Would be messy.” For whom, it went without saying, but she felt satisfied with her addition regardless. “As for what I put on the table, why don’t you just tell me what it is you want?”

 

With some fake self-preening and a coquettish bat of her lashes, the Queen smiled and tapped Swan’s bottom lip. Then she sealed the conditions of their agreement with a hot kiss, and her tongue made promises of its own as she forced it into Swan’s mouth. She had to wipe at her lipstick when she reeled back and considered exactly what she hoped to extort from Swan through this little contest. “Your dagger,” she emphatically spat. “Forever.” It was not so much the blade that mattered, although it worked just as well as every other weapon; she desired control over Swan and had no shame in flaunting it. “You serve me until the _end_ — assuming that ever comes to pass… given your immortality and my – well, timeless beauty.” With hands primly tucked into her lap, she sucked on her inner cheek and squinted as she tried to come up with an equal reward to dangle in front of Swan in return. “And if I lose, then I’ll give you something you’ve always wanted: name your price.”

 

The tip of Swan’s tongue dragged across her own lower lip, tasting the lingering remains of The Queen, before she barked out a laugh. “I see the prospect of this game has gone to your head already. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were high.” Then again, was it that surprising that The Queen sought the one thing in all the lands that had the power to not only kill, but also grant her an all powerful, immortal slave? No, but the idea of being at anyone’s beck and call did nothing but fill Swan with overpowering rage. Still, the voices in her head cooed that it would be a fool’s bet – on The Queen’s part. Did she really think she could outwit a Dark One? Perhaps half the battle was appearing as though The Queen could. Nothing like a little inflated ego to cushion the inevitable blow of being beaten at her own game. 

 

A false sense of security went far, which naturally meant Swan would have to appear at least uneasy just to sell it. “Say I agree, which let me make it very clear, I’m not,” She shot The Queen a supercilious glare before schooling her features with a more thoughtful furrowing of her brow. “What I’d want in return from you, your Majesty, would be…” The words trailed off as Swan suddenly moved, striking like lightning to pin The Queen against the back of the booth, her right hand splaying possessively across the smooth expanse of skin just above The Queen’s breasts, nails digging in just enough to strike the right amount of fear. With calculated precision, Swan pressed her lips against The Queen’s ear to give a sultry whisper of, “ _Your heart._ ”

 

The Queen let out a honeyed laugh, warm and rich to conceal any undercurrent of fright coursing through her veins. She beamed at Swan, nuzzling into the dangerous embrace rather than backing down at the critical moment. “Done,” she recklessly snapped. “I assume you won’t ever want to explain to our daughter how you accidentally pulverized it, so I suggest you rein in your temper.” Daringly, she shoved herself into a compromising position and allowed Swan’s fingers to plunge into her chest to graze her frenzied heart. With a moan she allowed Swan to securely grasp it, giving the Darkness enough time to appreciate the raw power before she pried free. “I can tell this appeals to you. Not just to you, but also to the ancient essence that lives within you. I’ve been told that it wants to devour me, and oh – I can feel your hunger, Em-ma.” 

 

“Honestly Regina, you make me sound like a cannibal.” The flippant remark disguised the very real thrill it had given Dark Swan to feel the frantic beating of The Queen’s heart against her palm. 

 

In reality, Swan could pluck it out from behind the Queen’s ribs at any time, like freeing a bird from its cage, but where was the fun in that? She let the threat loom over them with nothing more than a slow smile, and avoided the mention of their daughter. No sense in turning their jovial mood into murderous; she still stung at being denied the knowledge of the pregnancy, the birth, and the first few months of her daughter’s life. 

 

Dark magic sizzled in Swan as her thoughts became derailed, no thanks to the whispering agreements the darkness chose to offer. The Queen deserved to be punished, they all thought it, even Swan. Just as she felt tempted to act upon it, the recollection of The Queen’s taunt of keeping her temper was all that broke her out of the bitter cycle. “Before you jump the gun, we haven’t discussed a time frame for all of this. Unless you expect them to invite us to stay with open arms, I doubt we’ll be here very long.”

 

“Oh, they aren’t sending us back,” The Queen boldly admitted, all the more exhilarated by how on edge and fired up Swan appeared to be. “Our trip to this land wasn’t an accident like they think.” She sobered and tilted her head as she hesitated to share the reasons she brought them to this other world. 

 

Sidling up to Swan, she avoided the whole discussion with a long and breathless kiss, then raked her teeth along the underside of Swan’s chin. “I might have told you about our daughter sooner, but I was detained back in our land. I needed to get away, and what better place to do it than here, where our names are also on Regina and Emma’s property deeds?” Her eyebrows lifted as she chose not to elaborate, and she shifted out of the booth before Swan could grab her. “They’re not heartless enough to kick us out, anyway, not with a child—” 

 

This tactic bothered the Queen, as it involved relying on someone else’s pity and she never stooped to that. But she sold it well, like it was the approach she intended to take all along. “Besides, you’ve seen how they act. They’re both dying to fuck each other. I give it two--maybe three days before I can convince them to just get on with it.”

 

“Don’t change the subject.” The revelation as to how they got to Storybrooke, and why, evoked an immediate hardening of Dark Swan’s face, even as the Queen carried on with the conversation. “Who was it?” She finally snarled, “Who detained you and prevented me from finding out about our child?” The question came out like a demand, and snapped her into standing before The Queen could walk away, her eyes narrowed and wild with no trace of mercy within them. Swan’s hands latched around The Queen’s wrists to stop her from vanishing in a cloud of magic. Someone was about to pay a very high price for their mistake, quite possibly with their life. 

 

Belatedly, the rest of the conversation filtered through the intense urge to kill, and Swan straightened up with a dismissive look, “We’re not taking over Emma and Regina’s lives. I like the one I have already, and they like theirs. We can’t just waltz into their home and snatch it from under them.” Actually, they could, but she had no desire to do so. Why bother when she could just create her own house anywhere in town for the time being?

 

The Queen stiffened in Swan’s firm grasp, but then she pulled herself loose with so much force that she stumbled backward. She arranged her limbs and spine in perfect posture, and cast a critical glare at Swan. “Then we’ll choose a new residence,” she insisted. “We’ll start over, preferably without you going on a murder spree first. I don’t care to discuss what happened back in our land, and as you let nearly a year pass without even attempting to be in touch, I don’t think it’s any of your business, either. Had I not summoned you from who-knows-where, you still wouldn’t have any idea that I gave birth to our daughter.” Evasively, she stepped around Dark Swan and stared through the window at the quiet street outside. “If we’re going to set up house, we have a lot of work to do. I would have liked to pour myself into bed tonight, but as always, you have to make everything difficult.” 

 

“As much as you enjoy pointing the finger, you’re the one making things difficult,” Swan pointed out. “And you also have the pastime of slaughtering whole villages, so if anyone needs a word of warning on killing sprees, it ought to be you.” Swan sneered briefly, and then observed the panic that swept over The Queen as she continued to stand rigidly at the window. Something had happened in their land, and one way or another she’d get to the bottom of it. Tonight simply wasn’t the right time to press the issue. “How can you be sure I never contacted you if you were held captive somewhere?” 

 

Truth be told, Swan had tried to contact The Queen—several times, in fact. After receiving no response with each attempt, she took the hint. She would not beg to be seen, nor would she force her presence on anyone, no matter how many times she thought of allowing the magic to swallow her up and spit her out in front of The Queen to confront her, and find out why she’d so callously snubbed her. 

 

That would give the Evil Queen too much satisfaction. Smirking, Swan quickly matched The Queen’s steps and blocked her on the street to wave her hand in the general direction of Granny’s. “Let’s leave the house hunting for tomorrow.” She quirked an eyebrow, and held The Queen’s gaze. “We can stay at the bed and breakfast, or shack up at each other’s homes.” It wasn’t really an offer, as she knew which one The Queen would likely choose, but Swan also knew how much the Queen usually delighted in the illusion of options. 

 

“I’ll be at Emma’s,” The Queen huskily drawled, without a touch of animation in her face. She resented Swan’s curiosity and made no secret of it – she gripped the lapels of Swan’s leather jacket, and forced another kiss from her, one that was violent and lacked emotion. “You enjoy your time with Regina, and don’t be surprised if she enforces strict house rules. I’m off to pick up our daughter.” Magic enclosed rapidly around her, and then she was gone.

 

Dark Swan tipped her head back to glance at the stars now beginning to twinkle above in the night sky. One, slow, deep inhalation through her nose was the only sign that she paused to savor the small victory of not only winding The Queen up like a child’s toy, but on having her react exactly as she knew she would, without thought or hesitation. If she believed for a second that she’d be taking their daughter to Emma’s, the Queen was sorely mistaken. 

 

Now it was a matter of who appeared more in control of themselves, and Swan planned to showcase that she was in fact the better candidate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it, please leave us a kudos and a comment? :) We love hearing your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

Regina leaned against the counter in Snow’s kitchen and gently sucked at the inside of her lip in worry. She crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for Emma to speak first, but when that failed to happen, she began the conversation that neither of them wanted to have: “Look, no matter what occurs in the next few days, our friendship will remain unchanged. Is that what you want to hear? We’re not responsible for how the Evil Queen and Dark Swan choose to live. Like you said – they aren’t us, and we needn’t feel awkward about the nature of their relationship.” 

 

With a wine glass precariously close to her lips, Emma paused, wide eyed at Regina as she blurted her feelings on the matter. “Okay, first off, I wasn’t expecting to hear anything. I figured that went without saying.” The corners of her mouth tugged downwards as she offered a shrug. “I can practically feel how unsettled you are…. and hey, I get it – it’s a lot to take in but we need to stay cal—AHHH-m!”

 

Unfortunately for Emma, she jumped at the sudden sight of The Evil Queen who materialized out of nowhere in Snow’s kitchen. Emma not only destroyed her own point, but also splashed wine down her shirt in the process. The Queen grinned maniacally and cackled by way of greeting. 

 

Suspiciously, at the same time, a knock came at the front door.

 

“Looks like the two of you have also been enjoying your evening together,” the Queen boisterously snickered. 

 

Regina shrank at the sight of her old self, but she was composed enough to open the door and allow Dark Swan entry without showing any further signs of intimidation. “Tweedle Dee. Care to join Tweedle Dumb in the kitchen?” She spoke calmly and gestured towards Emma, with a squint and a wince as the apartment space became much too crowded and confining. 

 

The deadpan look on Dark Swan’s face never shifted when she walked into the apartment, quietly observing the fast approaching chaos. Evidently, Regina was still unamused by the whole situation, and whatever frustrations she had with Emma were unsurprisingly being directed towards her too.

 

Drawing Emma a criticizing look, Regina thrust a dishtowel in her direction and resumed resting against the counter. “I hope your night out didn’t include terrorizing any of the citizens of my town,” she threateningly stated, glancing back and forth between Dark Swan and the Evil Queen. 

 

“We kept it low key,” the Evil Queen insisted. “I might have avoided paying our bill by turning a waiter into a cockroach, but I figured you could settle up with him tomorrow, seeing as how we don’t have any currency suitable for this land.“ She flaunted her awful deed with a grin that showed off both rows of her perfect teeth, and then she did a spin around in search of the baby. 

 

“She didn’t,” Swan sighed, her tone reflecting how done she was with the Queen’s charade of madness, despite fully intending to stir it up. 

 

Snow reflexively stepped back as she glanced between The Queen and the Dark One, her face a contortion of how uneasy she felt seeing her daughter like that again. “Maybe we should all have a talk before anyone goes anywhere tonight.”

 

Emma cringed. The situation was already close to caving in on itself, and what little strained peace there appeared to be could pop explosively in an instant. “You know what, let’s just get the elephant out of the room, okay? We don’t know which versions of us you are, and for that reason we’re all a bit on edge.”

 

“You don’t recognize your own wish?” Swan husked dryly, her gaze shifting from Emma and going straight to Regina. “If you don’t trust us, then why don’t we pair up for the night? That way you can both keep an eye on us, and we can make sure neither of you are trying to plot against us in the meantime.” It was deceptively simple, and thankfully Emma had made it incredibly easy to suggest what she and the Queen had been planning anyway.

 

The Evil Queen licked her lips a bit inconspicuously and then stretched out both arms to take her infant out of Snow’s clutches. 

 

Snow was too shocked to react fast enough – not because of the Queen’s quick actions, but rather because of what the Queen said next: 

 

“I agree,” she sang out sincerely, and then delivered her squirming child right into Regina’s twitching hands. 

 

It seemed like Regina had been on the verge of forming a fireball, but receiving the little one startled her into silence. 

 

“I think our child should go with you and Swan,” the Queen almost too graciously declared, although she did pause to lovingly fix her child’s blanket. “It will give Swan the chance to get to know our daughter better – and to be quite honest, I am in desperate need of a good night’s sleep.”

 

Regina wore doubt and confusion all over her face, and then peered helplessly over at Emma and Snow, who looked even more clueless. If this were somehow a trick, Regina would have to be the one to figure out how. “Fine,” she quietly supplied, glaring down her nose in distress at the Queen. “As long as Emma can handle having you as her house-guest.” 

 

Dark Swan smiled slyly to The Queen for no other reason than to rile her up, then stepped closer to Regina and her child.

 

“I can handle it,” Emma shot back, chin up and jaw clenched as if already defensive -- though whether she actually meant what she said, or felt like she had to prove to Regina that she could handle it were two very different things. “What about you, alone with her and watching over the kid too? What about when Henry gets home? Maybe you’re taking on too much.”

 

Snow felt the rising battle of wills before it took place in her small apartment, and intervened by announcing, “Henry can stay here tonight. In fact, I’ll make sure David picks him up after his date, and we’ll text you both to let you know he’s home and safe.” She faltered, surreptitiously running her hands down her shirt to flatten non-existent creases as she murmured, “Obviously we won’t be telling him about all of this tonight.”

 

“Or ever.” Emma muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she caught the look on her mother’s face. Clearly her discomfort rivaled Regina’s, and not for the first time she found herself wondering why everyone thought this was such a big deal. Folding her arms across her chest, Emma sighed heavily, “Alright, so, let’s just get through the night without killing each other and we’ll meet back here in the morning when Henry is out. We can discuss a plan of action then, right?”

 

“Indeed.” The Evil Queen offered her hand, and provocatively lifted an eyebrow as Emma warily took it. “Shall we get going now? Sleep tight, everyone.” She waved goodbye with a wide and smug grin, not bothering to linger a second longer when she spotted the regret on Snow White’s face. 

 

The Queen’s magic curled around Emma with slow finesse, like a snake wrapping itself around its prey—and then the two of them were standing in Emma’s living room. With a tiny stretch, the Evil Queen yawned and sank down on Emma’s sofa. “I am very sleep deprived, but I wouldn’t turn down a drink before bed,” she mused. “Be a dear and pour me a glass of whatever you have in your cupboards? A strong whiskey, perhaps.”

 

“I have just the thing,” Emma lightly hummed and stalked off to the kitchen, appearing moments later with a glass of tap water that she handed over with a mocking bow. “Drink up, your majesty.” Evidently, Emma was still bitter over spilling her own glass of wine down herself minutes before. “You can take the couch tonight. I have spare blankets and an extra pillow you can use. No offense, but I don’t think Henry would feel comfortable if you stayed in his room.”

 

The Evil Queen flicked her fingers over the glass until the water bubbled, fizzed and changed into strong ale, then she kicked her feet up and cheerfully made herself comfortable on the sofa. She froze up at the mention of Henry, but her discomfort lasted a mere passing moment before she fixed Emma with a big and almost gloating smile. “Believe it or not, I’ve stayed in far worse accommodations. But are you going to bed so soon? I figured I would have company for at least a little while. Aren’t you curious about yourself? Don’t you want to know more about how and why Dark Swan inhabits your very own wish realm?” 

 

“I…” Emma glanced at the clock hung on the wall, and winced. It wasn’t even ten yet, barely even late. The prospect of having to make idle chit-chat made her skin itchy, and suddenly she felt uncomfortable just standing there as The Queen smirked up at her from the couch. 

 

“You know what? No.” Emma declared with a slight rise in pitch, her hand lifting to splay against the air, deflecting any protest. “That’s a can of worms that can stay sealed. I don’t want to know anything about her, or why she exists, or anything other than how to get you both back to where you belong.” On the surface it was all true; she truly didn’t want to unearth all of the baggage that came with her darker half, but stuffed deep down in the murky parts of her mind, a little part of her felt curious. Just not enough to walk into such a minefield. Some things, she realized, were better off left alone.

 

The Evil Queen chuckled and her rich alto voice made her laughter carry and linger in the air. “You are so deeply self-deluded,” she remarked. “But I think now is the time to really get to know yourself, especially because we aren’t going anywhere. Dark Swan will remain in town as long as I do, and I intend to stay.” Arching both eyebrows, she drank from her glass of ale and then placed it down on the coffee table so they could truly talk business. “Now, I promise to be nothing but civil, but if you cross me, I shall be forced to reveal your little secret to everyone.”

 

It would be easy to slip into an argument. Emma could feel the heat of it on her arms, spreading across her chest like she had pulled on a thick sweater, but she knew without a flicker of a doubt that The Evil Queen would relish it and stoke the flames until they were at war with one another. “You’ve been in my house for five minutes and you’re already dropping threats like a kid holding too much candy, but here’s the thing lady, I don’t have any secrets so whatever this little shake down is? Is only pathetic.” Emma crossed the room to sink into a chair, her elbows resting on her thighs as she leaned forward to really look at Regina’s so-called evil half. “So, to be clear, if you cross me or anyone in this town, I won’t hesitate to get rid of you any way I can. None of us will, not even my evil counterpart.”

 

Out of pride, the Evil Queen refused to glance away in the face of such warnings, and only a subtle flutter of her dark eyelashes betrayed her resentment and hurt. “That is the preferred strategy for dealing with me, isn’t it?” she softly asked. “To get rid of me. I can’t say I blame you -- not when I’m a reminder of just how far Regina strayed, and my existence is inconvenient for you both. But what you need to remember is that I merged with Regina. Our perspectives are still admittedly different, but we’re the same, she and I.” She leaned forward to take in Emma’s every reaction, every little tick that showed tension or fear. “And I know you have a secret. It might just be one that you’ve kept even from yourself. A desire you’re not ready to acknowledge.” 

 

Emma exhaled air softly and laughed without making any actual noise. The smirk across her face was a tell tale sign that she felt precariously close to lashing out in return – yet she maintained eye contact, reached for the glass of ale on the table and took a large gulp. “You honestly think you can get under my skin, don’t you? Here’s a secret for you: you’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are.” 

 

It was a dangerous game to call The Evil Queen out, and Emma knew it -- more so when she decided to call the Queen’s bluff entirely -- but she wouldn’t be intimidated in her own home. “You think that just because Dark Swan and you are together I’m secretly in the closet? Considering you’re both the worst parts of us, it isn’t all that shocking you wound up together.”

 

The Evil Queen grinned diabolically and threaded her fingers together thoughtfully. “And yet you were shocked! But Emma, dear, that wasn’t the secret I had been referring to: let me refresh your memory, because you seem to have forgotten. A while ago, back when you were in your own little wish world, don’t you recall that Regina felt extremely parched? And you – you filled up her flask from the healing waters of a certain lake. Lake Nostos? Now, in the real Enchanted Forest, that lake has dried up – but in your world, it’s still abundant with life. And you knew what that lake could do, because you’ve heard your mother tell that nauseatingly mushy story of how she conceived you. You also knew that Regina could never conceive a child of her own, and that’s why she adopted Henry. I know you healed Regina, and through healing her, you healed me. I also know why you did it. You think my child with your darker half was produced naturally? We were living in your wish world! She was the product of your wish to see your family and love grow – the family you apparently think you have with Regina.” 

 

Emma’s fingers curled tightly around the glass of ale but other than that, she appeared unaffected by everything The Queen said. It wasn’t until a beat later that the implications settled in her mind and she fully appreciated the weight of the knowledge dropped on her. Emma’s shoulders fell and she wet her lips anxiously with the tip of her tongue. “I think you’re reading into that a hell of a lot. When you were split, I cut your cheek with my sword, but it didn’t cut Regina.” It took effort to project a smug sense of self-righteousness but in truth that too was just a bluff. She just couldn’t let The Queen see that she was grasping at proverbial straws, but she also couldn’t stop an impending panic attack from seizing her lungs. “So even if Regina drank the healing water, it wouldn’t have healed you. And it was Henry who wrote your happy ending, not me. The fact that you ended up back in my wish realm was your choice, and had nothing to do with me. Anything else you want to take a wild swing at before we sleep tonight?”

 

“A wild swing? I’m not blindfolded and aiming at a piñata,” the Queen scoffed, and then extended a hand to snatch the glass of ale out of Emma’s unsuspecting grip. “I suppose Regina didn’t really tell you what happened when she confronted me in her office before my departure? Earlier, when I said that she and I merged, I wasn’t using a metaphor, or referring to some strange and masturbatory act. I meant that we became One, but still retained our autonomy. Regina effectively created a duplicate of herself in me. I’m not just her evil essence: I am the same as her and therefore I shared in her total healing process. The only reason I reverted to—well, this—was because of what happened after I left Storybrooke, which is another story altogether.” She glowered darkly, looking not ahead but to the side of the living room, as if at some unpleasant memory taunting her at a distance. 

 

“The wish realm I entered was still of your design,” The Queen emphasized. “And what Henry wrote was not only a happy ending for me, but a happy ending for every inhabitant. His pen even restored the dead, including King David and Queen Snow. For a while, it seemed like there would be peace and prosperity in the realm, but then something terrible happened. In seeking her own happiness, Princess Emma tore herself apart. She became two different people: the person her parents always wanted her to be, and Dark Swan, a woman capable of pursuing what she truly wanted. Dark Swan stirred up trouble, and left the kingdom when the dust wouldn’t settle—” 

 

The look on Emma’s face contorted, at first because she was dwelling on her part in all of this, and then because of a rush of regret that all halted when she internally sighed; oh kid, what did you do? It wasn’t Henry’s fault any more than it was hers. That was the trouble with wishes and hopes -- they could manifest in the most horrifically unexpected ways. “I doubt that my wishverse evil half stirred up all the trouble,” she argued. “I met the Rumplestiltskin there. I know what the wishverse version of you did, and he isn’t the forgiving type.” 

 

Which could explain why The Evil Queen seemed just as she had before, positively deranged and equally energized and damaged by whatever occurred. “A happy ending for him would be torturing you.” Not just him, she realized a little too late. Henry in that wishverse had been hell bent on enacting revenge, and how many countless others hated the Queen? 

 

The Evil Queen flippantly gestured to Emma, to stop her from drawing any further conclusions about what happened. “Why are you analyzing me?” she grunted. “Why don’t you analyze yourself? You know, you’re more similar to your Darker half than you realize. You’re more like her than that indulged and spoiled Princess Emma, and yet you’re striving to please Mommy and Daddy in the same way the princess did. Perhaps you need to figure out who you really are, and what you’re capable of doing in the name of living up to everyone’s expectations as a ‘good’ daughter and savior.” 

 

“I know who I am, and exactly what I’m capable of,” Emma snapped suddenly as she rose to her feet. Her face hardened into a scowl as she looked down at her unwelcome houseguest before she abruptly walked off, her mind buzzing with all the new information she had.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some violence, but no worse than what's been depicted on the actual show.

In her own residence, Regina also lost her patience with her houseguest—albeit for totally different reasons. It would appear that Dark Swan had no experience whatsoever with infants, based on the clumsy way she held her daughter and swaddled her up in too many blankets. 

 

“Allow me?” Regina politely offered, although she immediately moved to intervene and wrap the baby up properly. She cradled the little one carefully, and passed her back to Swan, as a long buried regret and sadness seemed to play across her face. “Make sure you support her head.” 

 

Guiding Swan’s hands into place, Regina fought the tightness in her throat and breathed through her nose. “Gentle,” she instructed. 

 

Dark Swan reflected the same vulnerability as her newborn daughter whom she clutched in her arms. 

 

For a second, nothing else existed. Just the tiny bundle of limbs and pink squishy cheeks that quivered in a precarious moment to signal a scream was about to erupt. The calm before the storm. 

 

Cautiously, Swan moved her arm at Regina’s prompting, so that the child’s small head cradled into the crook of her elbow. The trembling of the baby’s lips gave way to a sleepy yawn instead of the shrieks she had been preparing. One small hand wriggled free of the blanket. Questing, chubby little fingers found purchase on Swan’s pinky and grasped tightly around it. 

 

Swan’s own lower lip trembled. “Hi,” she whispered down at her daughter, her eyes scanning and memorizing every little movement made. “I’m your mom too.” She breathed softly, and let out a slight laugh, slight sob, when the baby gurgled happily in response. 

 

“Yeah, I am,” Swan reiterated, as if her daughter could grasp the significance of the moment. A single fat teardrop slid down the side of her nose and dripped onto the blanket. She longed to lean down and press her lips against the infant’s head, to smell her skin and bask in the miracle of her life, but she hesitated, clouded by fear and worry that she’d disrupt the sleep that was just settling upon the little one. So instead she looked towards Regina, allowing her emotions to shine through in her watery gaze. “I want to hold her while she sleeps.” The words were thick, as if Swan had to swallow back a lump in her throat, but her lips formed a white line as if she expected a fight to happen over her spoken desires.

 

Regina opened her mouth as if to discourage Swan, but then nodded in agreement. “You’ll be more comfortable on the couch,” she murmured. “Go ahead and make yourself at home.” She could have excused herself then, and yet she perched uncomfortably in the seat beside Swan to stiffly observe. Her hands twitched in her lap, as if ready to help at the first hint of distress from either Swan or the baby. “Emma,” she quietly sighed, letting the name roll off her tongue before she could self-correct. “Your other half – the Emma who lives in Storybrooke - she mentioned that you and the Evil Queen are a couple. But then when you returned from your night out, the Evil Queen said something that confused me. And now it’s quite apparent you haven’t spent much time in your daughter’s company. Did the Evil Queen prevent you from seeing her? And if so, why?” She seemed miffed that no one thought to tell her about this detail, and that she needed to question someone who wasn't much of a communicator.

 

Unbeknownst to Regina, Dark Swan anticipated these questions—hell, she counted on them. She had set the stage for stirring Regina’s pity and now it was all down to performing just so, to get the appropriate reactions from her. The fact that Regina already seemed to struggle with keeping the Emma from Storybrooke separate in her mind from the Emma on her couch added an extra thrill to it all.

 

It helped considerably that Swan wouldn’t really have to embellish or lie. 

 

The reminder of the precious weeks that Swan lost with her daughter stung, and so the hurt that laced her words sounded raw even to her own ears. “She didn’t tell me she was pregnant. I found that out when we arrived here. This is the first time I’ve seen my daughter. The first time I’ve held her in my arms or looked into her eyes.” Anger rippled through her voice, wet and tangible as the tears that burned the whites of her eyes and caused them to turn red. “The land we’re from, it changed before she arrived. Maybe because she did. She spoke of a happy ending that had been written for her, but everyone got something, and when desires are suddenly handed out without caution, things get complicated and dark fast. Then something happened. I was forced to leave. I sent her messages – letters for months that went unanswered.” That pain hadn’t subsided easily, after all; Swan had split from herself in order to be with the person she wanted, and _to then be rejected?_ “And here we are. A broken family I’m trying to piece back together.”

 

Regina possessed the wherewithal and life experience to err on the side of caution with Swan, but the sincerity in her voice won Regina over. She was drawn in by the story of what occurred between Swan and the Evil Queen, although Regina did frown curiously at the vague parts of the tale. “If there’s one thing I think I know by now, it’s myself,” she stated. “I thought the Evil Queen had made peace with me, but maybe she hasn’t quite reached that point yet. There’s no other reason for her to come back here, or to sabotage her own happy ending with you. That is… unless your land is unsafe due to everyone indulging in instant wish fulfillment. In either case, I am sorry, Emma. All I can do is assure you that you will have rights to your child in this land, and if the Evil Queen or anyone else tries to take her away from you again, I will intercede on your behalf. I’ll admit that I had my own fears about you, but seeing you with your daughter now reminds me of what it was like with Henry. Emma tried to take him away from me, and I would never do that to another mother.” 

 

Those remarks from Regina inspired a string of questions that danced on the tip of Dark Swan’s tongue, but she waited, knowing patience would prevail in the face of curiosity. Listening didn’t disappoint, but what took her by surprise wasn’t Regina’s words so much as the conviction behind them. 

 

Holding her daughter, feeling the barely there weight of her in her arms, Swan knew without a doubt she’d do anything to protect and love her for the rest of her life. So when she swallowed hard and looked deep into Regina’s eyes, her husked, “Thank you” held no trace of lip service. Instead, it was completely heartfelt, and for a few seconds she felt herself smile thinly. “I can’t imagine the uncertainty you all must feel by having us in town, but my intentions aren’t to start trouble, and as…” Swan paused to think of the nicest way to frame The Queen, “ _unhinged_ as your other half likes to appear, I think, ultimately, she’s hurting too. I’m here because I want my family, and from what you’ve said, I know you understand how that feels.” She dared to lean back to get comfortable with her sleeping infant, her face showing the great care she took to make sure she didn’t disturb the child. The position also helped her cause; it left her open and unguarded to Regina’s watchful eye. “I don’t mean to pry, Regina, but why aren’t you and Emma together here?

 

Regina twisted her fingers uneasily, and pursed her lips together in silent consideration. “That is prying,” she not-so-delicately pointed out, but softened further as she glanced down at the sleeping baby, whose face was so like her own. “Honestly, we don’t have that kind of chemistry, and even if we did, there’s too much at stake to ever complicate our relationship.” Her high pitch gave away just how in denial she was, and how much this conversation unsettled her. “I just don’t see her that way. She’s not at all tidy, and she’s immature. She wears a pair of jeans that I am sure she’s owned for over a decade. And she has the same hobbies and eating habits as our teenage son—” 

 

Making a case against Emma Swan, and proving exactly why she was un-dateable required a lot of effort. Regina’s chest heaved in excitement as she rattled off the list of Emma’s shortcomings. “I hate her car,” she rambled on, “And she doesn’t know how to keep to a schedule. We have almost nothing in common. Except…” She held her breath, shifting as she confronted her own conflicted feelings. “She did give me a second chance when no one else would, and she is a great parent. Sometimes she brings me lunch when I’m having a bad day. And in many respects, we do see eye-to-eye…and I have fun with her.”

 

Intently, Dark Swan took in every little change in Regina’s facial muscles—heard every hitch of breath and subtle change in tone. 

 

Evidently Swan’s own other half wasn’t the only problem here; they were both firmly suppressing their feelings. If that surprised Swan, she didn’t let it show. At least she could work with that. After all, they were physically identical, and if she wanted to make sure Emma was in Regina’s mind, all she had to do was be around Regina. It already appeared to be working. The trick was figuring out how to say more without scaring Regina off, or undermining her current feelings on the matter. 

 

So Dark Swan nodded to show she grasped the nature of the relationship before venturing tactfully on. “It sounds like despite your differences you two have formed a really close friendship with mutual caring and respect, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” She paused to admire her child’s sleeping face, and whispered softly, “It must be nice to know that someone you trust has your back on your bad days.”

 

Regina scrutinized Dark Swan and the tiny infant with growing anxiety. She ran her hands along her legs, as if soothing the tension there, then abruptly stood up. “I don’t know why you’re doing it, but I feel as though you’re trying to get into my head,” she reflected out loud. “All of this is probably a distraction. I bet the Evil Queen is having the same conversation with Emma right now, isn’t she? You’re trying to make us feel awkward around each other so we can’t partner up against you, but I suggest you save your time and energy if that’s the case. Emma and I have known each other longer than you and the Evil Queen, and any game you might be playing, we’ll play it better.” 

 

Regina’s sudden outburst, while not unexpected, made Dark Swan flinch. The shocked look on her face had to imitate Emma’s perfectly, and from the unnerved way Regina eyed her, it was safe to say she’d done it justice. The icing on the cake was when her daughter chose that moment to unleash the loudest shrieking cry she’d ever heard a baby make. 

 

Swan subsequently glared at Regina for upsetting the small wriggling ball in her arms, and ever so gently rocked the baby soothingly, but it was too late because Regina had rudely awoken her. “You know Regina,” Swan hissed in a whisper so as not to further irritate the screaming rage-baby. “You asked me personal questions first and I never lied to you. I asked you _one_ back, and when you got agitated I changed the subject by trying to say you have a good friendship. So if you want to start yelling at me for being polite instead of shit-talking any of you, at least have the decency not to do it when I’m holding my sleeping daughter for the first time.” She spat out quietly, and it was clear the only reason she hadn’t raised her voice was due to the distressed infant in her arms. Swan stood up slowly with a look of disgust aimed at Regina. “Yet another moment ruined because of you and your other self.”

 

Regina’s nostrils flared in indignation, but she shrank away from the argument, from Swan’s terrible judgment of her, and from a foul scent that hung in the air. “She’s crying because she needs a diaper change,” she finally huffed, vindicated by the strong reek of baby excrement. “And when you finish doing that, you might want to feed her. Henry ate every two to three hours at that age.” Sullenly, Regina spread out a changing mat on her coffee table and placed a box of baby wipes nearby, along with a tiny diaper. “I’d volunteer to do this for you, but I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the experience,” she sniffed. “You might want to take your jacket off, or at least roll up the sleeves. Your daughter is making smells that could be damaging to the leather.” 

 

The muscles in Dark Swan’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as she fought the urge to lash out. “I can smell that. It’s why I stood up, but go ahead and gloat as if your sudden paranoid tantrum didn’t upset her.” Restraint took many forms; right now it showed in the way Swan didn’t just vanish with her daughter in a cloud of magic. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and take your sarcasm and advice, and go call your darker self and give it to her. I’ve got this.” Snide remarks aside, the fast change in Regina resembled The Queen remarkably, and Swan was not in the mood to be micromanaged when it came to her own daughter. She’d had a son after all, and she knew how to clean babies—it had just been a long time since she’d done it. 

 

With a flick of her wrist, Swan’s clothes changed to a dark shirt that she then pushed up to her elbows, her leather pants replaced by black skinny jeans for no other reason than to spite Regina due to her comment earlier about the Emma from this land. In no time at all, she had the little one cleaned up and back in her arms with a bottle. This time she didn’t hesitate to brush her lips against the soft black hair atop the infant's head, humming softly to calm her as she ate.

 

Regina folded her arms around herself, and hastily withdrew from the living room with purpose in her step, as if she planned to leave Swan to tend to the baby’s needs all alone. But once at a safe distance, she let all of her emotions hit her full force, and she stopped to rest against the wall. Then she summoned up the last reserves of her energy, and doubled back into the living room. “I am going to make myself a cup of tea, and then I am going to bed. Before I go, I just wanted to say that I have every reason to be suspicious of you, and while I have extended my home to you and certain protections, I don’t owe you anything. I definitely don’t owe you my blind trust. You can use your infant daughter as a shield, if you’d like, but that’s low – even for you. If you truly meant everything you said earlier tonight, and you’re not as bad as I’ve assumed you are, then prove yourself to me. Be here in the morning and ready to go when I wake up.” 

 

The self-righteousness that radiated off of Regina caused Dark Swan to squint momentarily at her as if seeing her through different eyes. It triggered memories she fought to ignore, and suddenly the darkness within her unfurled to whisper in her mind. “You sound exactly like everyone you’ve ever hated.” One, slow, step forward brought her face to face with Regina and she smirked dangerously. “That’s the second time you’ve brought my daughter into this and there won’t be a third, do you hear me?” It was one thing to have a problem with her, but to needlessly bring the child into it with offhand remarks—that wouldn’t be tolerated. Talk about being low. “I want nothing from you. I don’t even want to be here let alone near you, yet despite everything I was willing to entertain this ridiculous whim to monitor me. I don’t owe you anything, and I sure as hell don’t need to prove myself to gain your trust because this little girl in my arms is mine, and I’ve done nothing to hurt any of you, least of all her. So why don’t you back off and regroup with your Sheriff before you say something else you’ll regret.”

 

“You have the nerve to talk about regret, and simultaneously claim you mean no harm when you’re the one who’s all but threatened me? Not to mention, all of this was your idea! You came up with the plan to pair up!” Swan’s predatory stance sent a chill up Regina’s spine, but she stood straighter and unapologetically squared her chin. Her throat leapt as she held back a gasp at Swan’s quick-footed movement, but she refused to stand down or let Swan frighten her. “Wrong move,” she rumbled, then acted on impulse and instinctual judgment, gathering the baby up in her purple magic. The baby disappeared from sight, but Regina appeared untroubled by her own hypocrisy and broken promise. She hadn’t sent the baby far.

 

Swan lunged for her, and Regina didn’t try to protect herself from the crushing grip of hard fingers that closed around her windpipe. Her vision dulled and pinpricks of light soared through oncoming darkness as the sensation of blacking out came over her. “That was a test,” she finally wheezed, and coughed to breathe as Dark Swan flung her away and down on the couch. “You failed.” Her head fell on a pillow, but she gazed up at Swan as she struggled to inhale normally again. 

 

Every ounce of pain that had been building up over the past year of her life, all the restless anger Swan had stifled in order to project equanimity throughout the day, exploded in a frenetic rage that left Dark Swan with a mouth full of thunder. “WHERE IS SHE?” It was the kind of roar that echoed animals in the wild protecting their young. The kind that went beyond thought or reason and straight to bared teeth, killer instincts. Her pale hands snatched at Regina’s shirt roughly at the front and dragged her back onto her feet in a vice-like grip until Regina hovered on her tiptoes before Swan’s face as she screamed, “You think snatching my baby is a test!? What have you done with her?” Swan’s hands tightened in the fabric and she pulled Regina’s face into hers until their lips almost touched, ensuring that their eyes locked as she growled viciously, “ **You want a monster, then I’ll give you a monster.** ”

 

Magic enveloped them, yet before it had fully dissipated Dark Swan all but yanked Regina further into Emma’s living room, startling The Queen and prompting Emma to rush downstairs as she yelled. “ _Sheriff!_ Your Mayor has kidnapped our baby, and if you want her back in one piece you better find my daughter fast because if one hair on her head is damaged--”

 

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, what happened?” Emma rushed down the stairs, with her hair disheveled, wearing only a tank top and a pair of panties. She froze at the sight of Regina, gazed at the red marks already on her neck, and winced because it wasn’t the first time she’d caused that to happen. 

 

“I just told you, she kidnapped our daughter with magic!” Dark Swan fervently snapped, shaking Regina for emphasis. 

 

The commotion in the room ended as they all fell silent when the sound of a crying baby came from upstairs.

 

“I already told you that I would never take your daughter away from you, but I had to know what kind of person I was really dealing with,” Regina choked out, and forcefully wrenched her arm free of Dark Swan’s brutal clutches. With ragged breathing and eyes running from the intensity of their fight, Regina sank down on the nearest couch cushion. “I expected you to be violent, but not like this.” Her neck would turn blue and purple with bruises, and she rolled her shoulder as if it hurt her. “Better you lash out at me, so I can see what you’re capable of doing, before I unleash you on my finally quiet and peaceful town.” 

 

The Evil Queen inquisitively raised her eyebrows, and her mouth twisted in disapproval. “Swan isn’t going to hurt anyone in this boring and backwards little town,” she declared, with a roll of her eyes and a magical wave of her hand. The baby gently landed in her arms, and she snuggled the little one close to tenderly ensure that she was unscathed. “As for you,” the Evil Queen continued, flicking her long lashes in Swan’s direction. “You acted rashly. Not that I blame you, given how our daughter was used as a pawn in your trial, but you should have seen right through Regina.” She patted her baby’s back, and then moved to the couch in a spot where she could nurse her child with a bit more privacy. “Not that we’re competing,” she taunted, with a victorious look on her face that she privately enjoyed when she glanced at Swan, “But Emma and I did nothing but talk before bed.” 

 

Emma moved to sit next to Regina with her brows furrowed. “I thought we agreed not to interfere with their kid?” she asked quietly. Then she looked between the three of them, and shot Dark Swan a look of warning and anger as she inspected Regina’s injuries up close. “From here on in,” she said to Swan, “Whatever happens, you better keep your hands to yourself, you got it? Or I’ll be the one who breaks them.” Her careful fingers became warm as she lightly caressed Regina’s bruising, her magic healing it instantly. 

 

Dark Swan shook her head at Emma in a way that said she was already sick of listening, but she held back the urge to shout. Her rippling outrage would be a problem if confined for long, but the last thing she wanted to do was to let it out in front of her child. It didn’t help that The Queen sat smugly cradling the baby, appearing wholly unbothered by the violation of the kid being magically ripped from Swan’s arms. 

 

Swan paced restlessly – a beast trapped in a cage called Storybrooke – before finally sulking down into the chair next to The Queen with a huff of breath. She could slaughter them all and take her daughter, but then she’d be as bad as the rest of them, and what child could ever love someone who’d done that? “I want to hold her again,” she bit out quietly, her dark eyes closing as she tried to compose herself. “Please.” She stressed softly, the look on her face pleading as she held out her hands in a manner more fit for a beggar than a Dark One.

 

The baby tucked her small face into the Queen in search of milk and comfort; she had her own ideas of what she wanted, and she was still hungry. The Queen stiffened and turned towards Swan to deny the simple request. Her face communicated clear resistance, but she shocked even herself when she agreed, “Fine, but let her finish eating first. You know how cranky you get when you skip a meal? She’s the same.” Soft suckling noises came from the baby’s lips finding nourishment, and the Queen sighed in relief and joy to see the baby’s growing contentment. “I assume she didn’t finish her bottle? She’s usually quite hungry just before midnight.” 

 

As the baby ate, the Queen relaxed and even through all of her thick and dramatic make-up, her exhaustion was evident — but she also took pride and delight in caring for her baby. 

 

Knowing not to push her luck, Dark Swan remained quiet, though she did inch closer towards The Queen in order to place her hand on her arm. Yes, they fought, and they held grudges, and they had a way of using words to cut, but right then? All Swan could see was the mother of her child feeding their daughter, and that was a moment she didn’t want to miss. So she sat there, half watching and half listening and tried to forget for a few seconds that this was the first time she got to experience it all, and instead focused on the fact that this would be a memory she would tell their daughter one day--of how deeply they loved her.

 

Regina silently stared at the family on the couch, and her eyes blackened with a feeling that she had yet to identify as envy. She touched the part of her neck that no longer hurt, seeking a physical source for the emotional pain that came out of nowhere. Her gaze eventually returned to Emma, who was sitting too close to her, and Regina pulled away quickly and bitterly. “It’s clear we’re all going to have to spend the night here,” she concluded. “I want to go to bed now. Do you have a shirt I can borrow? I’ll stay in Henry’s room.” 

 

As Regina’s voice broke the gentle hush that had fallen over the room, Emma seemed to realize that she too had been staring. Guiltily, she averted her eyes and then found herself springing to her feet as if trying to shake the thoughts from her head. “Uh yeah, sure, that might be for the best. I’ll go grab you a shirt.” 

 

Far from eloquent, Emma sighed at herself and remembered that she was standing in her underwear. The only consolation was that nobody was looking at her. Hastily she ran back upstairs and rummaged for a clean shirt that she refused to think of Regina wearing. She snagged one of her favorite T-shirts, and reasoned it was because she knew it was clean and had nothing at all to do with the likelihood of her using it any time soon. 

 

Jogging back downstairs, still without pajama bottoms, Emma thrust the shirt at Regina in the same way a child would share a stuffed toy, awkwardly but with bashful force. “Here, this should do. Why don’t you take my room, and your uh— other half and the kid can take Henry’s and then me and, uh—” Emma frowned, and glanced towards Dark Swan unhappily, “myself—can sleep down here.”

 

“Go ahead, Regina. Don’t pass up Emma’s offer. I’m sure you’ve always wanted to get into her bed,” The Evil Queen hummed, with a self-satisfied grin that earned a deadly look from the identical face opposite her. Regina glowered hatefully, and ripped the shirt out of Emma’s hands in frustration. 

 

“And borrowing her clothes, besides?” The Evil Queen chuckled, balancing the baby in one arm as she also gestured for emphasis. “Either you want some little reminder of Emma close at hand, or you’re feeling too emotional and scattered at the moment to use magic to fetch your own sleepwear.” 

 

All of the Evil Queen’s keen observations riled Regina, until she put up a front of indifference and boredom. 

 

“I will take your bed, Emma,” Regina sharply announced, and then canted her head to the side as another solution occurred to her. “And why don’t you join me? There’s plenty of room for both of us. We’ve known each other for years. Why shouldn’t we share?” To spite the Evil Queen, she boldly marched off towards the stairs with full expectation that Emma would follow right behind her. “Have a good night,” she called out to the Queen and Dark Swan. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. We’ll see you in the morning to work out the details of your stay here.”

 

Emma and Dark Swan wore matching looks of uncertainty, which they directed at the women in their lives. Sensing the oscillating emotions that could easily start a whirlwind of destruction if left to cultivate, Emma let her gaze slide to Swan and darted after Regina. 

 

Emma could feel The Queen’s smirk as much as her taunting eyes burning into her back as she slipped from sight. It had been a tough call; she could have stayed there to demand that The Queen take Henry’s room, and then face her Darker Self’s brute force and the Queen’s mockery. Instead she followed Regina in the hopes of proving she had Regina’s back in the heat of the moment. 

 

Carefully, Emma pushed open the door to her own room and scrunched her nose in worry. “Are you sure about this?” She quietly inquired, closing the door behind her to momentarily lean against it. “I mean leaving them alone down there -- they might decide to leave, or devise a plan to take over the town.” With slow steps, Emma went to the window and peered out at the darkened streets, until her eyes covertly found Regina’s reflection on the cold glass. “Then again they know we’d just track them down so what would be the point, right?”

 

Regina shrugged, pushing out her chest in anger as if to physically repel the idea that Dark Swan and the Evil Queen could still make a scene in the center of town in the middle of the night. She attempted to fluff a pillow that was permanently squashed in the shape of Emma’s round head. After unsuccessfully punching and prodding it, Regina grabbed an extra blanket and began folding. Tucking both the makeshift pillow and Emma’s horribly lumpy pillow behind her, Regina curled up on her side and yanked Emma’s quilt up to her chin. “Maybe they’ll be gone in the morning and we’ll never hear from them again,” she reasoned. “But I doubt it. Either way, we don’t have much to worry about tonight: they have a newborn. I know from experience that being a parent really does cut down on a person’s free time for vengeful plotting and destroying the lives of others.” 

 

Rolling over, Regina tried to make herself comfortable, but saw it was a pointless effort. “How do you sleep at night,” she whined. “What, do I not pay you enough as the sheriff to afford a decent pillow?” 

 

In clear desperation, Regina conjured up some better memory foam pillows, but her magic also brought a little spark with it – a tiny flame that burned through the mattress before she could put it out. She waved her hand frantically and bolted upright as smoke rose from the blankets, but the fire fortunately dwindled before the alarm went off. “Ugh,” she husked. “Okay, so the Evil Queen might have been right: I am emotional. I’ll avoid using magic for now… although honestly, I’d be doing you a favor if I torched all of your pillows and this floral quilt. I’m guessing your mother made it?” 

 

“Yeah. You think I went to the store and picked this out myself?” Emma retorted softly, though not unkindly. “I sleep pretty comfortably when my bed’s not on fire.” There was a joke in there somewhere about getting hot between the sheets, but judging by the grumpy lump bundled in her bed, it wasn’t a good idea to voice it. 

 

With a flick of her wrist, just so, Emma simultaneously repaired the damage done and changed the bed sheet to a more calming blue and silver one. She’d discovered now that she had magic, she didn’t get as upset as she used to when accidents were involved with her things. “These were a housewarming gift and they come in handy when I want to clean my other set. And I wouldn’t say no to a raise either, since you mentioned it before.”

 

Side stepping around the pile of clothes Regina had earlier dumped on her floor, no doubt in anger, Emma pulled her pillow out from behind her bed guest. “Just because you hate my pillow doesn’t mean I do, and I don’t mind you changing things to your liking for tonight, providing this isn’t one of them.” Creature comforts were comforts for a reason, after all. 

 

Casually, as if she wasn’t hyper-aware of Regina being in her bedroom, Emma opened her wardrobe and pulled out her pajamas, which looked suspiciously brand new and as if they’d barely been worn. Excusing herself, she entered the bathroom and changed. Then she wondered why it also felt so necessary to gargle mouthwash after brushing her teeth. Belatedly she considered if this was how it would have felt having a sleepover as a kid – if there would have been the same awkwardness in her own home, and if she would have been unsure of what to say or how to act. It was absurd of course—she knew Regina like the back of her hand and yet she turned the light off and slipped under the covers as if she were getting into a stranger's bed who might just shiv her in her sleep.

 

“I should warn you that if you steal the covers tonight, you’ll have not one, but two Evil Queens to deal with in the morning,” Regina warned, simply for the sake of throwing around empty threats and dispelling the air of strangeness between them. In spite of the already strained atmosphere, Regina claimed more of the bed and then they were suddenly so close that their elbows collided. She tried to pull away, but the consequence of that move was that their hands touched. Regina let out a quiet gasp of surprise, as if it was their lips and not their fingertips that met in the complete darkness. 

 

“Emma,” Regina weakly began, and then on impulse invaded Emma’s side of the bed more daringly. In the light coming through the windows from the street, Emma could just make out the silhouette of Regina’s face – the quiver of her bottom lip, and the hollow spaces where intense eyes stared curiously and hopefully. “What do you really think of all of this?” 

 

Against her own will, Emma felt her fingertips twitch, then strain to keep the barely there contact between their fingertips. She heard herself swallow thickly, her chest struggling to bring air into her lungs as she felt the subtle warmth of Regina’s body heat radiating in the space between them. “I think…” Emma’s voice sounded tight, as if someone had stretched her vocal cords unnaturally and held them in a painful grip. 

 

The trouble wasn’t in what Emma thought: that was easy. She believed they both very clearly had unresolved issues that were plaguing them when faced with their counterparts. The problem was that they both somehow knew that, and were too afraid to address it, because doing that would change everything forever. 

 

So instead of explaining her first thoughts, Emma opted instead for the second. “I think we need to tread lightly with all of this. Something happened in the wishverse. The Queen spoke about it tonight, about how even the dead came back to life. I think something happened to them and they’re trying to act like it didn’t. We both know that never ends well...” Emma trailed off as she looked at the silhouette of Regina in her bed, the longing of her own gaze lost in the shadows that fell over her. “Whatever happens Regina, I will always be here. I will always have your back. Nobody beats us as a team – not even ourselves.”

 

Regina took a shallow breath, but nodded in agreement and softly cupped her hand over Emma’s knuckles. “We do work well together, don’t we?” she husked with conviction. She settled back against the pillows and folded her arms above her head, then shifted onto her side and found a comfortable sleeping position. “Goodnight, Emma.” 

 

A moment of silence passed while Emma watched Regina turn away from her. Only then did she let herself release the tension in her body as a soft breath. “Goodnight, Regina.” She finally whispered, pretending to be carved from stone while she gazed at the ceiling until the inky darkness of sleep finally pulled her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters tonight. :D If you enjoyed, we'd love to hear from you!


	6. Chapter 6

When Emma abruptly awakened hours later, she knew two things immediately: the first being that her pajamas and consequently the sheets were stuck to her clammy skin due to a cold sweat. The second, and frankly the worst, was that somehow during the night in her sleep, her hand had betrayed her. She knew this as much as she knew that something had woken her, but it wasn’t the erratic beating of her heart. That came from her palm being trapped between the mattress and Regina’s ass cheek. 

 

Emma had a few options. She could fake sleep and wait for Regina to wake up and move, or she could snatch her hand back like a purse thief on the subway, and just roll on her side with a momentum so fast that Regina wouldn’t be aware of what had happened.

 

Preparing to yank her hand free, Emma faltered when the sound of arguing finally made its way through the fog of her mind and the closed bedroom door. _So that’s what woke her up._ Suddenly pissed off, she pulled her arm to her side and hissed quietly to Regina, “Hey, we got a problem, they’re fighting downstairs—”

 

The distinct rising pitch of her mother made Emma sit bolt upright. The confusion and rising panic in her throat threatened to choke her. “With _my mom?_ ”

 

Regina groggily lifted her head and swept back the blankets that were nestled around her. In confusion, she touched the spot on her ass that still felt hot and staggered onto two feet. She might have confronted Emma right then, but glass shattered somewhere down in the foyer and she rushed for the stairs. 

 

Standing on the bottom step in the long shirt that Emma loaned her, Regina looked just like someone’s one-night-stand. She caught sight of herself in a wall mirror just as Snow and the Evil Queen noticed her presence. Her disheveled hair made her appearance even more scandalous, along with her smudged mascara, smeared lipstick and remnants of forgotten make-up. 

 

“I saw the Evil Queen and Dark Swan together, and I thought the worst had happened,” Snow hastily explained, as she lowered her hand, which still clutched a vase that she intended to use as a weapon. Glass breakables were scattered all over the floor, with dangerously jagged edges glittering in the sunlight. 

 

Snow’s eyebrows knitted together severely as she scrutinized Regina. 

 

“We slept here in the living room, so that Emma and Regina could have the upstairs _all to themselves,_ ” the Evil Queen lilted dryly, as if indifferent to the violent way Snow had greeted her that morning. She brushed some glass off of her dress, and wiped at a thin cut on her cheek. 

 

Snow’s coat had a charred sleeve, where a fireball had scorched the fabric but fortunately not the arm underneath. 

 

“You slept with Emma?” Snow stuttered, paling to an even fairer shade, and stamping her foot in a way that brought back memories of her as a young and stubborn girl. 

 

“Of course not,” Regina snapped, and then she concentrated on gathering enough magical energy to tidy herself up; she restored her make-up and hair to its usual flawlessness, and then changed into conservative black pants and a turtleneck. “At least not _like that._ Our original plan didn’t work, and we needed to stay here last night.” 

 

Emma probably should have changed too, but fearing the worst if Regina and her other self were left alone with Snow, she bolted down the stairs without giving it any thought. She halted only after she bypassed Regina to stand between The Queen and her mom—just as pain finally registered through her sleep-addled brain. “ _Ow, shit,_ ” she hissed, cringing as she looked down at her bare feet and the sea of glass shards she stood upon. 

 

“What the hell, mom, you just started throwing everything I own?” Emma immediately accused, trying to deflect from the fact that the soles of her feet were definitely now bleeding. “With a baby in the house? What the hell were you thinking?” Emma grunted, more from pain than frustration as she forced herself to walk out of the broken glass radius and snatch the other vase from Snow’s hands.

 

Emma all but threw herself unceremoniously onto the couch, hissing as she lifted her feet up to inspect the damage. “Would it kill all of you just to have one day without, _well_ – without all of this?” She motioned around the room then let out a snarl as Dark Swan helpfully pulled a sliver of glass out of her foot with a bored look.

 

“It’s tedious to be lectured by someone who literally runs over broken glass barefooted,” Swan sniffed. Her pale fingers lifted the shard to eye level in order to inspect the stained glass. She gave a quiet, albeit thoughtful hum as she gazed at Emma curiously. “Who do you think you are, John McClane?”

 

Emma’s lips twisted into an angry and humiliated line, as she whispered viciously, her hand slightly lifting as if ready to blast Swan with magic. “Yippee Ki-yay, Mother Fu—”

 

“Uh!” Archie cleared his throat, finally stepping past the door that had been left open and into the chaos with wide and startled eyes. His face showed how delicate he considered the situation, and he immediately tried to diffuse the rising emotions and tension in the room by smiling. “Perhaps now would be a good time to say that Snow asked me along to see if I could be of service during this rather unexpected time. Why don’t we all take a seat and… and – maybe I can help - ”

 

Regina stood at attention, and then she wedged herself between the timid therapist and the Evil Queen, although it was unclear whom exactly she was trying to protect. 

 

“ _Help?_ ” The Queen mocked. “Cricket, how would you like to become a firefly?” She beamed, raising her hand menacingly as if to conjure a fireball. But before inflicting any damage, she slinked away and perched in an armchair almost cooperatively. “In all honesty, we have no need of your services. Now that we’re taking up permanent residence here, we plan to blend in and lead dull, meaningless lives like the rest of you.” She glared at Snow with open resentment, contradicting herself with the hate she wordlessly conveyed with her eyes.

 

Snow gave the Queen a dubious look, and then gently put a hand on Archie’s back to encourage him to take a step into the room. “There’s a lot we need to discuss,” she insisted. “Like how your presence here might affect Emma and Regina, and why exactly you need to live in Storybrooke when we went to great lengths to send you to a place where you could start over.” 

 

Regina stepped around the fringes of the room, as if reluctant to be drawn into the fray now that it had continued. She found a spot on the couch with Emma, although kept her distance and folded her hands in her lap, even if her fingers twitched with the desire to heal Emma’s injuries. 

 

Archie pushed at his glasses and cleared his throat again nervously as he risked sitting down beside the Evil Queen. “Please, let me help you,” he softly begged. “It’s obvious that there’s tension between all of you, and if you ignore it now, then I worry it will be impossible for you to peacefully co-exist.” 

 

Though the two Emmas were complete contrasts of one another, they both shared an identical fleeting grimace at the suggestion of outside help. Archie experienced a slight tingle of deja vu just witnessing it, and promptly pushed his glasses further up his nose as if to rectify the image.

 

With nowhere else to go except next to The Evil Queen, Snow sat down with a dramatic huff and soon discovered that her discomfort was doubled when it meant she had to face her daughter sitting next to The Dark One directly across from them. It felt, all of the sudden, like some kind of twisted dream. The sort she could easily chalk up to Jefferson and his mind altering teas. “Whether or not any of us wants this, I think it’s very clear that we all need it.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Swan snidely remarked, her features suddenly darkened like a cloudy day bringing the promise of a storm.

 

Emma couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard The Queen muttering _You need something_ under her breath to Snow. Judging from the blush on Archie’s cheeks, he had heard it too. 

 

“What if we don’t want to co-exist?” Emma blurted all of a sudden, waving her hand to use magic to heal her bloodied feet and get rid of the shattered glass strewn around. “Why should we share our town with them when they could go anywhere else? How can anyone think that’s a good idea? What, we’re all just going to walk around town, me constantly in uniform and Regina in impossibly tight pantsuits while the two of them gallivant around in leather looking like two extras from a BDSM scene? Half the town shrieking in fear whenever we’re seen in public because they mistake us for them, and the other half gossiping because they think they spotted us on a date?” Emma finished her rant, red faced and trembling with indignation at the idea of sharing a town with the two darker versions of her and Regina. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.

 

“Oh, excuse me, I wouldn’t want to ruin your squeaky-clean reputation,” The Evil Queen scornfully spat, more adamant and self-possessed than ever. “So what if you have to deal with a few rumors and some distasteful remarks? A little public humiliation is _nothing_ compared to what you’ve already done to us. Need I remind you that it was Regina’s choice to tear herself apart? And how do you think Swan came into being? Do you think that Princess Emma was actually the best version of herself? She was filled with self-loathing, and a deranged airhead, besides. How much clearer do I have to make it for you? Swan only exists because the Emma of your wishverse _broke_ in two.” She enunciated the word, snapped it in her mouth for emphasis. “I don’t know why it happened, but it must be your fault, since you went there and filled her mind with memories of this land. We cannot go back to that place! I won’t go back!” Her panic and unbridled rage came to the surface at the mere suggestion of returning to the wish realm, and she stood up abruptly to pace. Spinning on her heel, she honed in on Snow and towered over her. Veins in her forehead pulsed into view, and she flexed her hand as if contemplating some destructive magical act. 

 

With all of the tensions rising high, Regina tried to intervene while remaining levelheaded. “What did she do,” she softly rasped, swinging her chin in Snow’s direction. “Not her, but the Snow in Emma’s wish realm. Based on what you’ve both said, her life was restored, and I see how you’re looking at her now. So, what did she do to you?”

 

“Why are you assuming that _I_ did anything?” Snow cried out in an accusatory tone, and knitted her eyebrows together in reproach. “How do you know the Queen wasn’t the instigator of whatever happened in that realm? Sending her back obviously had _many_ unforeseen consequences.” 

 

The chilling presence of anger fell like a mist over the room, and had it not been for The Queen’s careless and deliberate remarks involving her, Dark Swan would have remained unfazed. Though tempted to lash out at having her most private affairs aired like common gossip, she instead coiled around herself like a serpent biding its time, unsure of whether it would be best to strike or slither away. Resigning herself to silence seemed the best way to handle it—at least that’s what she thought up until she heard an annoying hiss.

 

“How did you split?” Emma whispered, leaning surreptitiously closer to Swan as if she were actually able to be subtle. “How is that possible without that potion?” It became evident that Emma’s mind was racing, as her jaw slackened and her eyes widened.

 

Archie had the foresight to stop the madness before it took root, like a deranged seedling hell bent on ravaging the very soil of its being. It had to be ripped out, and fast.

 

“Everyone, please, this isn’t the way to move forward!” He punctuated his statement by standing up, and waited until all eyes were on him before continuing. “I know this is hard and none of you are at ease with the idea of talking but yelling at one another isn’t going to get us anywhere fast, except angry and upset. I propose we treat this as a – _well_ – a family or group session.”

 

The sudden glares sent his way caused Archie to almost hiccup, his hand rising to smooth his tie somewhat nervously in reflex. “Obviously there are a lot of negative emotions in the air right now and I want us all to concentrate on trying to disperse it, so a more healthy discussion can be had. Re-ah—Your Majesty, I think you said some crucial things as to why you want to stay here. So, why don’t you take it in turns to hear each other out? And express what you feel, without fear of judgment or attacks?” Satisfied, Archie finally sat back down, and looked towards Regina expectantly. “Regina, what would you like to say to your— um, other self?”

 

Regina inhaled deeply and held her breath while raising her eyebrows almost defeatedly. She would participate in Archie’s exercise if only to appease him and Snow. “Last night, I was determined to do whatever it took to send you back to the happy ending that Henry wrote for you,” she softly explained. “But it’s become clear to me that something went horribly wrong in that realm and Henry’s work has done more damage than good. If this is where you want to be, then we’re going to reach a compromise. Neither you, nor any part of Emma deserves to be miserable. But this is going to be a major adjustment, and I’d be a liar if I said I feel comfortable sharing our town with the two of you. I think it’s important that we’re all forthcoming right now, and if we have any grudges or unresolved problems with ourselves or anyone else, we deal with them together.” She gripped the arm of the couch, and cast a fleeting look at Snow and Emma. Archie grinned throughout her speech and propped his hand on his chin, eating up every bit of her calm mediation. “I’ll go first,” she negotiated. 

 

“Oh, _no_ , please allow me,” The Evil Queen insisted argumentatively, and then strolled around the living room with flaunting strides. “Your problem is that you’re desperate for acceptance, and you’ve finally found that here in Storybrooke, but you’re frightened that it won’t last, especially with me here. I hate to destroy this delusion you’re living under, but most of these people you call family would forsake you if the right conditions presented themselves.”

 

Instinctively Emma sprang to her feet to meet The Queen head on as she threw around hurtful words. Emma was accustomed to being a shield that deflected blows towards the people she cared about. “Hey, you’re going to sit down and shut up, and for once you’re going to listen because nothing she said was an attack on you.” The fleeting silence broke as Emma found her tongue once again to drive her point home. “You’re mouthing off about insecurities but all it does is showcase your own. Regina isn’t living under any delusions because she knows we’d never abandon her. We’ve been through a lot together and know each other better than anyone, and whatever happens she knows I will be here for her -- but you?” Anger drained the color from Emma’s cheeks until she resembled a pale imitation of Dark Swan. “You’d try to ruin it just to prove a point, and hurt everyone in the process because you’re afraid that people actually care about you, and you can’t handle that, can you? Because you cling to the guilt of everything you’ve done and you’re too stubborn to let it go and move on!”

 

“Emma!” Snow exclaimed, exasperated that her daughter fanned the flames of an already heated argument. “Sit down, both of you, and talk like the adults that we are, instead of warring teenagers!”

 

“But she—” Eyes wide and hand outstretched towards The Queen in blame, Emma floundered indignantly.

 

“You heard me! Sit down right now.” Snow sternly enunciated in a way that she very rarely did towards her daughter, and privately held back a laugh at the way everyone around her reacted.

 

Opening her mouth to protest, Emma helplessly turned to Regina before silently sinking back into her seat sheepishly, her cheeks red from embarrassment.

 

The Evil Queen stood in a dignified pose, not once flinching in the face of all that screaming. She pressed her red, full lips together and stayed very still. 

 

Regina’s body language was the same as the Queen’s, and they stared at each other meaningfully—conveying so much through their eyes alone. 

 

Snow picked up on their silent communication, and glanced back and forth between them eagerly as she tried to comprehend what was going on. “Okay, this isn’t working,” she concluded. “What do we do now, Archie?”

 

Archie fidgeted nervously as he contemplated another approach to conflict resolution. “It does actually seem as though you are the focal point around which the tension in this room is currently centered,” he coughed at Snow. “Do you have anything to say to Emma or Regina?”

 

Bewildered and in denial, Snow sat further back in her seat and let out a strained laugh. “What? My relationship with Emma is perfect,” she stressed.” And Regina and I have never been closer.” She turned to Emma for confirmation of all that she said, but only found her daughter with a worried look on her face. 

 

“Isn’t it?” Snow prompted her daughter in desperation, making a weak effort to counter the panic that began to inflate within her chest. It pressed into her lungs and left her struggling to breathe. “I mean we’ve had our ups and downs over the years but what family hasn’t?”

 

The earlier upset that had hung in the air like a bad perfume had changed to a much more uncomfortable awkwardness. A multitude of emotions swam through Emma’s body but she couldn’t for the life of her settle on just one. “I mean yeah, you’re right.” She mumbled feebly, the corners of her lips tugging downwards along with her slumping shoulders. “It’s just…”

 

“Just what?” Dark Swan asked, finally intrigued by the back and forth. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on her thighs and stared at Emma intently -- a curious, albeit unreadable, expression on her face.

 

Directing a glare to Swan, Emma shook her head and chose her words for Snow carefully. “Your reaction yesterday was pretty extreme, and I get it, sort of, but maybe this surprise therapy session would go a little better without you being here right now. Let us talk to Archie without you for a little while and then come back, preferably with breakfast from Granny’s?”

 

Snow furrowed her brow but continued to smile through her obvious confusion. She collected herself gracefully, although her smile did waver as she stood up. “I can do that,” she stated, then fleetingly placed her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “I am sorry if I overreacted yesterday. It’s all just a lot to take in and accept. But we’ll get through this, okay?” 

 

It seemed like Snow might lean in for a hug, but then she backed off and headed for the door. 

 

Once Snow was gone, Regina vacated her seat as if she intended to leave – but one glance at Emma, and she felt the need to explain herself. “There’s nothing more we really need to discuss,” she reasoned. “Our Evil twins can go look for a place to live. There are a lot of houses on the market right now, and new homes are constantly being built. We can all just promise not to cause trouble for each other.”

 

The Evil Queen grinned knowingly at Regina and then perched on the sofa beside Swan. “What inspired this sudden and extreme change of heart?” she drawled. “Now that Snow is gone, you’re running off too? You just said you wanted to talk, so now let’s talk. I believe you said you’d go first.”

 

“There’s no sense in being straightforward and honest with you when you’re only going to twist my words or make assumptions,” Regina replied, but she hesitated to leave, if only because that meant Emma would have to handle this failing therapy session alone. 

 

“Fine,” Regina finally conceded, determined to speak her mind no matter the consequences. “I will say that when you left, I thought I had made my peace with you. That’s apparently not the case, because now that I have to live with you again, I find it unbearable. Don’t get me wrong: I’m willing to do it, but it is unbearable. It’s not specifically because of guilt, or grappling with a past I can’t change. I don’t hate myself the way I did previously. But you are part of me, and everyone celebrated when you left. I’ll adapt to having you back in town, but something tells me that even if I try to keep the peace with you, we’re going to have problems. Either because of other people, or because you still hurt from that rejection. We both do. And letting go of our pain has never been easy.” She magicked herself into a winter coat and scarf, although she returned to her seat to finish out their discussion. “You’ve also alluded to experiencing some other recent turmoil in Emma’s wish realm. Why don’t you elaborate on that? Or perhaps we can hear from Emma next – “

 

If ever there was a time for the ground to open up and swallow her, it would be now, but Emma knew better than to wish for such things. Hell, it had already happened to her more times than she’d like to remember, and she really couldn’t handle being sucked to another realm right now. Except, seeing the hurt on her mother’s face before she left, the smugness on The Queen’s, the hope on Archie’s and the almost tangible plea on Regina’s to take over talking… It felt like she was already sucked into another world, with everyone looking at her to fix it and make sense of it all over again. Everyone except Dark Swan, who peered towards the cradle tucked out of harm's way in the kitchen.

 

Something peculiar twanged inside Emma’s chest, and she wondered just how and why Swan had been ripped in two.

 

It hadn’t been lost on Emma that Regina had just said she’d felt rejected, either. Later, after she’d had time to think on it, she would speak with her in private. For now, all she could do was speak her own mind concisely. “I think it’s pretty evident that what I said earlier came out of anger and confusion, because honestly, I don’t know how to react to any of this. I can separate us all into different people pretty easily, and I’m sure there’s something unhealthy about that because we’re the same, but as far as I’m concerned I’m Emma. I know who I am, and I know that the darker version of me here… isn’t me. She’s her own person. So what do we do going forward, act as if we’re just doppelgängers? Twins? Clones?”

 

She was getting off topic as her anxiety snaked around her limbs, tripping her up as she tried to think. “My point is we all know who we are, but nobody else in this town does, and if it’s a mind fuck for us, it’ll be one for the rest of them. And yeah, okay, I am worried about the two of you just deciding to walk around and pretending to be us, because it’s happened. Cora did it to Regina, and Pan did it to Henry, sort of, and I can’t handle that again. For once the town isn’t in danger and nothing bad is happening, and I’d like it to stay that way. So if you’re living here, then it means you need to give a damn about the town and everyone in it too. We’ve worked too hard to have it all go to hell again.”

 

Emma released a heavy breath and sank further into the couch, her arms resting on her thighs as she hung her head. “I’m tired.” She whispered to her knees, “I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of worrying. I’m just tired.”

 

Archie absorbed it all, and nodded encouragingly, “You’re doing great. Let’s keep this going. Ah -- your uh, Majesty, why don’t you share how you’re feeling next?” He gently suggested, with his hands clasped loosely in his lap.

 

“Oh, _me?_ I'm not tired at all,” The Queen cheerfully intoned, and possessively raked her hand down Swan’s chest. “I’m invigorated from a long night of rough sex, followed by the first restful sleep I’ve had in ages.” Unapologetic and highly amused, she pressed herself into Swan and yet directed her lustful eyes over at Emma. She meant to make everyone in the room uncomfortable in a ploy to deflect their curiosity. It would work, but only to a certain point—which is why she also huffed more soberly: “There’s nothing we can do to prove that we aren’t here to make your lives miserable. With the passing of time, you’ll come to see that we have no interest in that. We have better things to do… -- like _each other._ And we also have a daughter to raise. That said, we’ll work out a plan to put your minds more at ease.” She was being quite diplomatic, but her volatility lurked just under the surface of her calm exterior. “As I see it, you need to spend time in our company to be assured that we are trustworthy.” 

 

In her cradle near the kitchen, the baby awakened with a quiet whine that rose to a louder shriek. “All I want is a safe place for our daughter to grow up,” the Queen breathed out as she stood, and went to lift the infant into her arms. “If nothing else, you should be able to appreciate that we just want what is best for our child.” With nurturing tenderness, she changed the baby’s cloth diaper and swaddled her in a royal blue blanket. She caught Swan’s eye, and perceived her longing and eagerness to hold the baby again. “Why don’t you take her for a little while?” she suggested, and then gently transferred the baby into Swan’s waiting arms. “She’s still changing every day, but I think she’ll have my hair and your inquisitive green eyes.” 

 

Regina stiffened as she watched the new mothers care for their baby, but then she found herself staring at Emma instead. The baby had both of their qualities, and she counted each one of Emma’s as she drifted into a daydream. When she finally returned to the present, she noticed Archie pensively observing her. “If you think spending more time with each other will help, we can all arrange our schedules accordingly,” she concluded. “As parents, we do share a common ground, and for your daughter’s sake, we’ll keep an open mind about you.” She smoothed down the end of her coat in preparation to go. 

 

Boldly, Archie placed his hand on Regina’s forearm as if to still her urge to vacate the room. “There’s still someone we haven’t heard from yet.” He quietly stated, and inclined his head towards Dark Swan, who now stood with her infant cradled in her strong arms. A little bundle of squirming blankets, really, that gurgled happily. 

 

One small hand curled tightly around a single pale finger, and Swan knew, just knew, that her entire world had shifted to revolve around this tiny baby. So small and pink and squishy, with no concept of who she was or how alive she happened to be. “I’m not playing your game.” She all but cooed suddenly, her voice soft and whimsical, but directed towards Archie despite the way she gazed at the newborn. “I have better things to do, like take my daughter for a stroll through town to get fresh air.”

 

“Oh, this isn’t a game,” Archie assured her, but she shot a look his way that stopped him from uttering another word.

 

Ignoring the eyes on her, Swan turned to The Queen and did something particularly shocking. She cupped her cheek gently and spoke softly. “We need to pick a name for her. Together. Think about it today, and I’ll do the same.” Then she took her hand back, waved it with a flourish and materialized a pram from the air. “Now, if you’d all get out of my way, I’m going for a walk around town.” She caught Emma’s eye and motioned downwards to her skinny black jeans and tight turtleneck. “Don’t worry, the only leather I’ll wear is boots and a jacket. Just like you,” she added wickedly.

 

The Queen touched her own cheek, taken off guard by the sudden display of tenderness. She only belatedly cleared her throat and prevented Swan from making too hasty an exit. “Don’t be out long,” she requested. “Our daughter likes to eat at half past.” She motioned to the clock, which showed that it was now nine in the morning. “If you intend to stay out longer, make sure you take a bottle.” Allowing Swan to be alone with their daughter involved trust, and the Queen nervously hovered over the pram to wrap and re-wrap the baby. In the end she backed away and folded her arms over her chest, although it was difficult for her. “I’ll stay here, so that we don’t inadvertently make Regina and Emma the subject of town gossip.” 

 

Regina appreciated the Queen’s discretion, even if she did feel guilty about preventing the family from being together. But her attention landed back on Swan. “Before you go,” she boldly interrupted, “kindly participate in the therapy session we were all forced to take this morning. Every one of us went along with Archie’s exercises, and I think it’s only fair that you do the same. Just say a few words, then you can go on your walk, and enjoy the scenic parks of Storybrooke.” 

 

Conscious of each tick of the clock, Swan privately came to the conclusion that it might as well be a countdown until she exploded like a bomb. Patience, she reminded herself, was most precious. Especially now. 

 

The Queen had already carved out a few minutes from the time Swan would be spending with her daughter, and now Regina saw fit to do the same before it was time for the child’s feeding. _Patience,_ Swan repeated in her head, and the voices echoed it back in turn like a mantra.

 

Swan sucked in a slow, deep breath before she turned to look at the expectant faces all staring at her. It wouldn’t take much, she realized, to unravel everyone with a few well placed comments, but that would eat into her plans, and she wouldn’t allow herself the chance to self sabotage. “As you wish.” She drawled slowly, the words thick on her tongue. “I think this little session is a farce, designed specifically to make you all feel better. Look around, ask yourself just how honest you’re all really being. Not with each other but with yourselves, and then tell me this has done anything to help. Your fear is written all over each one of you, but you hide behind misplaced anger and bluff your way through each encounter, and act as if I’m the crazy one.”

 

She huffed out a soft breath, not quite a laugh but definitely amused. “I don’t particularly care if anyone in town likes me, fears me, or otherwise. I’m not here to antagonize people or take over. I’m here for my family. That’s my priority, and that’s all that matters to me because, you see—raising my daughter in a safe town, with two parents who aren’t going to judge her—I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

 

Regina listened to the carefully worded statement, then straightened her spine and rolled her shoulders once. It released all of the bound up tension she held in her body throughout their session. “Thank you,” she muttered, and even mustered a tiny smile of gratitude for Swan’s attempt at cooperation. “At least there has been one positive outcome of this discussion: we’ve all unanimously agreed that we don’t want conflict.”

 

“You’ve also identified how or why conflict might arise,” Archie added, while keeping his voice at a deliberately low register. “Whether you were indirect about it, or more open, it’s clear that you all worry about your family rejecting you and treating you differently. I feel you could all benefit if we continued these conversations in smaller groups – if both Emma, and well—Emma—would be willing to attend a session with Snow, we could make real progress in dealing with the extended family. It would be helpful for Regina and the Queen to do the same, and if you could each come in as couples. ” He placed his business cards on the coffee table, since none of them seemed receptive to his recommendation. “I’ll await your call.” 

 

Archie excused himself and left while everyone was still processing his advice. “Couples,” Regina snorted, casting a critical glance back at Emma. 

 

“I’d rather attend therapy with you than with my mom,” Emma muttered grudgingly. The displeasure couldn’t have been clearer on her face if a child had scrawled it there in permanent marker. “Not that I particularly want to go at all.” She added quickly, as if somehow the idea of acknowledging that she’d ever venture to Archie to better understand herself, and why she was the way she was, would reflect badly on her in some way. Being human was a luxury everyone else had, but not the savior.

 

“Finally something we can agree on.” The lilting sound of Dark Swan seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, like an omnipresent whisper. “I won’t be attending anything with mommy dearest.” She supplied quietly. “As for the rest, you can work it out between you all. I’ll return in twenty three minutes.” Then, before anyone else had the chance to snatch away another millisecond, Swan dramatically strolled out the door with the pram as if she’d done it a million times – the air of confidence and attitude overpowering enough to keep everyone away.

 

Slack jawed, Emma slid her gaze back towards Regina, then to The Queen who looked particularly gleeful for some reason. Nervously, the tip of her tongue wet her lips before she swallowed thickly. “Uh, so, you’re leaving for work?” She waved towards Regina who was standing in her coat. “I guess David can cover the station for a day or two.”

 

“I hope you still have some days of sick leave,” Regina sniffed almost haughtily, but voiced no further criticisms over Emma’s choice to skip a few days of work. “To be honest, I need the distraction that work provides. I’ll call you later, okay? Let me know if you have any problems with our guests.” She gave the Queen a wary glance, briefly grasped Emma’s arm in a show of support and then walked out the door. 

 

The Evil Queen snapped her fingers and changed her wardrobe into more casual attire—a black turtleneck with frills and a matching pair of tight-fitting dark pants. She still wore a glittering choker necklace and bangles with dark gemstones, but otherwise she could pass as a normal townsperson. “I’m glad we have some time alone,” she admitted softly. “I am sure you probably have better things to do, but I’d like your advice.” Her usual abrasiveness seemed to drop away as easily as the clothes she discarded. “Swan is angry with me for keeping our daughter a secret. Don’t get me wrong—she’s less angry today than she was yesterday. The thing is, being honest with her isn’t an option.” She folded her hands in her lap, but continued to fidget as she resisted looking at Emma. “Her mother is partly responsible for that, as Regina already guessed. Swan expects a full explanation of what happened, but I can’t give her one. How can I – “ She rolled eyes at the absurdity of asking such a question, but came to a full stop as her emotions began to take over and her voice sounded thick and wet. “How can I get her to forgive me?”

 

The Queen’s change in behavior left Emma curious, though she remained guarded as she cast a critical eye over her new choice of wardrobe. “What is it with you two wearing black turtlenecks? Planning on robbing one of the banks?” The joke lacked punch, and so Emma shook her head instead as if physically showing that she didn’t have the energy to really understand what they were up to. Taking the conversation into the kitchen, Emma poured herself a cup of coffee and out of sheer habit, made a cup for The Queen. It wasn’t until she’d stirred in sugar and handed it over that she realized what she was doing.

 

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why The Queen was asking her for help, but who else could understand Emma Swan at her darkest than Emma Swan who had once been at her darkest? “Talk to her.” Emma shrugged haphazardly and took a large gulp of her coffee. She swirled the liquid absently in the cup as if drawing solace from the movement before releasing a sigh. “Look, I’m not her, but I was like her, and it’s not just her that’s upset. It’s all of them. It’s personal to them all. Every past Dark One is whispering in her head about how you kept her in the dark, and throwing insults her way. You’re not making it any better by mocking her for not being there, or not knowing.” Emma shifted around the kitchen to grab a towel for wiping down the counters as she added: “Clearly she cares. She damn near broke Regina’s neck last night because she moved the kid here, and _that?_ Kind of says everything.”

 

Her fast, deliberate swipes brought crumbs into her upturned palm and left the kitchen surfaces shining again. It helped Emma focus on the present and not on the insanity of the situation. “So, if you can’t be honest with her, and I don’t understand why you just can’t be, tell her that. But don’t taunt her in the process or she’ll never forgive you. And neither will they.” Emma uttered matter-of-factly, balling up the dishtowel to throw it in the laundry with a flourish. “And they’ll never let her forget it.”

 

The Queen opted to sit at the kitchen table while Emma tidied up the kitchen. Tracing her finger around the rim of her hot coffee mug, she drifted into her own thoughts and lifted her shoulders defensively at Emma’s expected response. 

 

It was only when Emma drew nearer that the Queen looked up and acted on a whim; she reached out her hand and placed it over Emma’s wrist. “Emma,” she whispered earnestly. “I’m protecting her. The truth is a painful one, and she needs the lie right now. I’d rather she be angry with me, and think I did this deliberately. I expect you’re going to tell me I’m wrong, and that honesty is best – but she’s been through enough.” 

 

Her eyes wandered to the clock to monitor the time, and she sighed out at the dwindling minutes they had left to speak privately. “You know as well I do that she won’t forget. I just hope this life here in Storybrooke will be enough to keep her fully occupied… -- that I’ll be enough for her.” 

 

Startled by how familiar the touch felt, Emma stopped in her tracks and had to remind herself that this wasn’t her Regina. Yet, there was a fleeting pull towards her all the same, an invisible force beckoning her to believe The Queen despite her common sense. 

 

_Must have been the tone,_ Emma reasoned, and blinked rapidly only to squint. “Actually, all I’m going to say is keep me and everyone else in town out of it. I’ve learned how quickly the best intentions can bite you in the ass and I’d rather not get tangled up in other people’s business.”

 

Just as Emma took her arm back, the door opened and The Queen’s last words belatedly registered with her. With a bemused tilt of her head, she had the urge to ask what the Queen meant, but the words died on her tongue due to the overly cheerful call of, “I brought enough for everyone!”

 

Snow’s smile froze rather painfully in place when she spotted that the majority had left, leaving her with six containers of breakfast and a bitter taste in her mouth.

 

“Fortunately for you, I am rather hungry,” the Queen declared, and snatched all six of the Styrofoam containers out of Snow’s limp hands. She claimed two for herself and popped open both lids before glancing back to Snow, who only gave her a judgmental look in return. “What?” she asked peevishly. “I worked up an appetite last night. Swan is full of vigor.” 

 

Her eyes gleamed with mischief, although they also radiated a deep hurt when she subtly peered back at Emma. With shaky fingers, she gripped a fork and tried to concentrate on the food. “I’m surprised I got any sleep at all, honestly. It’s been a long time for us.” 

 

Watching Snow squirm provided the strength the Queen needed to restore the proud mask that she let momentarily slip with Emma. 

 

“Please spare me the details of what you do with my daughter,” Snow breathed out in a scandalized tone, then blinked and rapidly corrected herself. “I mean… Swan is -- she’s still sort of my daughter, isn’t she?” Her forehead creased over that dilemma, and then she sat down across from the Queen. 

 

“I suppose in some way, yes,” the Queen conceded, and then dug into her breakfast with gusto. “Although she does hate your guts and won’t ever acknowledge you. If you learned to be more accepting instead of being so passive aggressive, it would go a long way with Swan and your own Emma.”

 

“I am accepting,” Snow fired back, her eyebrows arching high until they threatened to vanish into her hairline. “I love my daughter _and_ Regina. We’ve all become family and we’ll stay that way, even if you try to paint incredibly vivid, unwarranted images of your personal life.” She sniffed, and dug her plastic fork into her eggs with more force than necessary. “It doesn’t change anything.” Shoveling food into her mouth, she aggressively chewed.

 

“Oooh-kay. I’m standing right here, so let's all stop acting like I’m invisible,” Emma announced suddenly, swooping in to take the remaining three containers. She grabbed one for herself and sat awkwardly in the chair furthest away from The Queen, though she shot her a warning glance that all but implored her not to talk about anything sexual. “Thanks for picking up breakfast, Mom. I know how busy the diner gets in the morning.” It was a futile attempt at normalcy and she knew it, but she still hoped to at least dig into her pancakes and eggs before the illusion crashed around her.

 

The Queen dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin and silently gloated over how easy it was to rile everyone. For now, Snow seemed to be taking her frustrations out on her breakfast but the Queen knew it would only be a matter of time before they resumed fighting. “Continue to stuff food into your mouth like that and you’ll choke,” The Queen warned Snow. “I must admit I’d be amused by the irony of that -- if you avoided an untimely death by my apple, only to choke yourself on toast and bacon.” She put down on her fork, letting the rest of her meal go to waste. Her attention drifted to Emma and for an instant she became lost in comparing her to Swan, and that other delicate flower who inhabited the wishverse – the one she had even once tended to, until the Princess turned out to be a poisonous weed instead. 

 

This Emma was different, more like Swan than the Princess, and yet the Queen found herself glaring resentfully at both Emma and Snow. Not for the first time since her arrival, she had to squeeze her own hands to avoid behaving too destructively and conjuring magic. Her freedom and her daughter’s future happiness depended on her ability to exercise self-restraint now. “So, Emma, did Regina at least let you get to first base last night, or did the two of you cuddle up like a pair of innocent puppies, and ignore the simply _insane_ amount of sexual tension between you?” She was aware that such talk would mortify Emma, but she pretended to be coy rather than cruel. 

 

Finding her composure, Snow took a deep breath and rather than retaliate and get flustered, she did the one thing she always knew riled The Evil Queen the most. She remained calm and simply smiled, going so far as to hum as she chewed to prove that she was enjoying her breakfast and no matter what words were thrown at her, nothing would take that away.

 

Emma attempted to follow suit, save for the fact that her jaw muscles twitched and her chin jutted out in a sign of aggravation. At least her ears, which burned hotly from embarrassment, were safely hidden by her hair. “You know it’s funny, the way you keep talking about sex makes it seem like the last time you got any was about nine months ago.” The words rolled off Emma’s tongue like the sunny yellow yolk that oozed over her toast and bacon. She took a large bite, enjoying the taste as much as the dawning realization that if the two of them had slept together, she and Regina would have heard it. “I guess Swan’s angrier than you thought, huh? Someone didn’t get any last night, and yeah sure, you could have used magic to block out the sound, but why would you ever do that when you like to flaunt everything?” Emma grinned fully for the first time, and ignored the fact that her mom was sitting right there. “No wonder you’re being such a bitch. Anything to deflect the fact you’re frustrated.”

 

The sound of the door opening temporarily made them all pause, but the satisfied smirk Emma flashed at The Queen remained in place.

 

“Keep talking, and I’ll make you so unrecognizable you won’t have to worry about anyone ever mistaking Swan for you again.” The Queen pushed herself up from the table and stalked to the door to retrieve her daughter from Swan. She gently plucked her daughter up from the pram and carried her away to the couch without further acknowledging Emma’s comments, or Swan’s fulfillment of their agreement that she should be back by half past. Her threats still hung heavily in the air, even as sat down with her daughter in a private corner. Clutching the baby close to her chest, she kept her shoulders up so that no one could see the tiniest trace of tears in her eyes.“ Did you have a nice stroll?” The Queen rumbled out, only after she composed herself. 

 

Observing the room, Swan entered with a curious quirk of her brow. The sight of Snow cautiously chewing her breakfast caused an irrational spike of anger but it ebbed when her gaze slid to The Queen, then back to an almost gloating Emma. “I see I’ve missed the fun.” She commented lightly, strategically placing herself next to her doppelgänger as she peered at the breakfast tray. “We did. We enjoyed ourselves. The park was practically empty and the bird songs soothed her.”

 

Without asking, Swan snagged the other half of Emma’s toasted sandwich out of her hand before she had the chance to even sniff it, and bit into it roughly. “So,” Swan asked conversationally. “What did you do to provoke such a statement from the mother of my child?”

 

Emma shrugged lightly, the corners of her lips twitching with barely contained amusement. “Pointed out the one thing neither of you are doing, either.” The tip of her tongue pressed against her back teeth as she stared back at Swan, her tone unapologetic as she added. “Guess I struck a nerve.”

 

With a crooked finger, the Queen very carefully stroked the black tuft of hair that covered her baby’s scalp. She moved her shirt to the feed the baby, and the little one nursed quietly and blissfully, all while staring up at her mother with large green eyes. “Please,” the Queen grunted, though her voice was mellow. “You really think either one of us is hard up for sex? I’ll have you know that I’ve never been short of options in that regard, and I am sure Swan had many dalliances while she was traveling through the countryside.” Her tone darkened lethally at that, before her throat constricted and her gaze swept over to Swan. “Isn’t that right, dear?” She hated that Emma’s taunts were all launched at her, and she was determined to misdirect the focus elsewhere—determined to put Swan in an agitated frame of mind, one that would perhaps come down hard on her in the long run. 

 

When jealous, Swan had always acted impulsively and claimed her with physical force, and the Queen knew exactly what to say to push Swan. There was so much she could toss out there—so many truths rather than lies, but she needed to put a spin on her words because the truths were painful. She craved further confirmation that Swan cared—that the passing tenderness she had shown her this morning was not just an anomaly, because Emma was right: it had been more than nine months ago that they conceived their child, and last shared a bed. 

 

The Queen entertained a thought that Swan could somehow sense what happened in the kingdom after her departure, and what she had done. That fleeting thought egged her on, desperate to find out just how deep Swan’s loyalties went, even if it completely ruined her in the end. “There must have been other women,” the Queen fished. “Wasn’t there?”

 

Emma kept her mouth shut, not because she couldn’t think of other barbs to puncture the joy from The Queen, but because she intently focused on Swan when the topic switched over. Had there been other women, and if there had, what did that say about her personally? They weren’t the same people, and she’d argue that with her dying breath. Yet, some small part of her knew better. They were one and the same, they came from her, born from her own wish—and that meant the desires, the predilections, the very essence of her was the same in all forms.

 

The atmosphere in the room thickened until it felt almost viscous. Swan side eyed Emma and drew Snow a dirty look before her eyelashes fluttered in the shared anticipation of everyone subtly leaning towards her. Desperate to know for all their own reasons. The Darkness inside unfurled just enough to savor how uncomfortable everyone had become—so on edge that it was a wonder how Swan hadn’t been cut from it. A delicious little shiver cascaded from the base of her neck all the way down her spine, and her dark eyes locked with The Queen’s almost challengingly.

 

“No.” Swan finally exhaled, her lips parting slowly to form the word. “Only you.”

 

The confirmation felt like a weight had been lifted off of Emma, and she sucked in a stuttered breath before sagging in her seat.

 

Swan leaned forward just enough to appear predatory as she focused solely on The Queen, her eyes piercing as she uttered, “Are you saying you took other lovers?” Her tone was deceptively sweet as the muscles in her shoulders tensed, like an animal ready to pounce.

 

“Well, I’d better get going before I’m late for work,” Snow suddenly announced. “Emma, I’ll call you later. Think about seeing Archie.” She cast a glance towards Swan and The Evil Queen. “We’ll speak soon.” She stood up swiftly, still clutching her half eaten breakfast and dashed out the door before anyone had the chance to say anything else. 

 

The Queen slid her shirt back into place, then passively lifted her head and kept perfectly still, unwilling to so much as blink under Swan’s close inspection, even if she felt as though she should be trembling. She waited until Snow was gone, then grinded her teeth together as she raspily enunciated, “Yes.” It was the one truth she would grant Swan, regardless of the consequences, because she deserved this honesty: to know that even after the connection they shared, so rare and special that it resulted in a child, there had been someone else. She tried to make her face neutral – to stare dead-on at Swan and accept the rage she assuredly believed would come, all while putting her own terrible feelings aside. 

 

Sensing that Emma too was focused on her, the Queen glanced that way. She offered up nothing, no indication of why she’d chosen to confess in front of Emma—but her fingers shook, and before she could hide her hands, she suspected Emma had gotten a glimpse of her tremors. Perhaps she wanted Emma’s protection. 

 

Gingerly, the Queen patted her daughter on the back, and then gave the baby to Emma so she could deal with Swan’s wrath. She stood in front of Swan, flicking her lashes down to where the Dark One sat with a multitude of voices likely crying out for vengeance in her head. 

 

Another, perhaps smarter woman would have taken Swan aside and told her everything for the sake of their relationship. But the Queen’s story would only devastate Swan: it would claw at so many of Swan’s bleeding insecurities, leaving her emotionally tattered. A simpler version of the story would have to do, especially if they were going to truly reunite in Storybrooke. It was necessary, because in spite of all her bold talk, the Queen wouldn’t be able to sleep with Swan again without confessing this, not when there was always the possibility of her discovering what had occurred. “There was someone else,” she calmly stated, to make it clearer.

 

“More than one, actually. So many I’ve lost count. I can’t even remember all of their names,” the Queen added, and her face lit up as if she was relishing this, every moment of rubbing it in Swan’s face—but her eyes were wet when they briefly strayed back to Emma. “I’m sorry,” she lilted softly, and so genuinely. She attempted to find her sarcastic voice, but there was too much desperation in it as she whispered out: “You must think I’m yours.”

 

If Darkness held a scent, it would have been a combination of gasoline and acrid smoke, fueled by the fire of undiluted rage. It seeped out of every single pore and diffused into the air: a vaporous warning. Swan appeared statuesque where she sat. Pale skin became cold like marble, the musculature in her body pulled taut like the strings in a grand piano. The slightest vibration and she could snap faster than a rubber band. The only movement came from her eyes, which followed The Queen intensely as she walked, unflinching in the way they bore into her.

 

Emma mutely cradled the child in her arms, and quickly stood up to shield the child and to step closer to The Queen simultaneously. Though she thought better of it and halted. After all, she was given the sleepy little bundle for a reason, and judging from the fear that radiated off of The Queen, she damn well better keep her distance for the child's sake. She shot a warning glare towards Swan, her jaw hardening as if she were fully prepared to step in if things got out of hand.

 

Nobody but The Queen existed for Swan right then. Her dark eyes trailed slowly up The Queen’s legs, so slowly that time felt like it didn’t exist. Seconds ticked by, and she’d gotten past her thighs, gradually up to her waist. Swan took in everything, from the quick breaths that expanded her ribcage to the strain in The Queen’s neck. She focused on her trembling lips, while her own stretched in a tight white line, and then Swan tipped her head back to finally lock eyes with her.

 

With lightning speed, Swan stood up, her body almost flush against The Queen, her face mere millimeters away. The voices in her mind echoed with her own thoughts, a twisted whispered harmony that drowned out the sound of anything else. _Grab her, kiss her, hurt her, claim her, fuck her, bite her, punish her, pleasure her, take her, own her, make her yours._ Swan’s blood boiled inside her skin but it had nothing on the searing ache within her chest. Pain pulsed through every nerve ending until she snarled, lips parting to offer only a feral display of teeth.

 

“Not any more.” She growled low in her throat, and vanished in a cloud of magic before The Queen could even blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked the chapter, we would love to hear from you and we always reply to comments! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some graphic angry sex involving a strap-on.

Violence should never be the answer to anything, yet Emma felt like she’d witnessed something far worse. An emotional door slam that locked The Queen out and left her with nothing but uncertainty and her own words to haunt her.

 

For once, the Queen’s striking eyes filled up with tears and she sobbed openly, bending at the waist even as she grasped at the lingering grey smoke in the air. Her fingers twitched at the knuckles—clutching at nothingness until her hand curled into a tight fist. 

 

“This is _your_ fault!” she snapped out furiously, then swung around to place the blame on Emma. “You told me I should be honest with Swan and that she would forgive me!” 

 

Emma blinked in shock at the whirlwind of blame hurled towards her—the force enough to make her rock back on her heels. “Hey, I said tell her the truth—I never said coat it liberally with bullshit!” she spat back indignantly, her face instantly softening due to The Queen’s tears.

 

The Queen would have shouted more, except that Emma still held a small, precious bundle that squirmed and cried. The baby screwed up her face and let out a wail that rose in pitch, especially after Emma returned her to the Queen’s arms.

 

As grief stricken as she was, the Queen pressed the baby close and gazed helplessly down at her. “Oh please, my little princess, stop crying,” she begged, her voice cracking and giving away just how much stress she endured over the past months as she cared for the infant alone. Overwhelmed and at a loss for how to calm her daughter, the Queen offered her back to Emma. “What am I supposed to do now?” 

 

Emma took the infant into her arms and paced restlessly, the motion soothing the little one until she settled. “You let her calm down,” she stated rationally, remembering how volatile her emotions had been when she’d been The Dark One, how she’d cried for hours lost in her own misery with no idea how to get back what she’d lost. “Then when you see her again, you don’t fabricate the hell out of everything just to spite her.” She was judging, but Emma couldn’t help it as she eyed The Queen with exasperation. Shrugging it off as best she could, Emma coaxed her into a chair. Maybe it was out of habit with Regina, or maybe it was because she would always react to seeing tears in her eyes regardless of what version, but Emma reached out to squeeze The Queen’s shoulder reassuringly. “Right now, you can stay here, and I’ll make us some more coffee.”

 

The Queen shooed Emma away to brew the coffee with every intention of collecting herself, but as she sat numbly staring ahead, tears splattered on her cheek and she felt charged with a frantic energy. “I told her what I could,” she loudly insisted, following Emma into the kitchen to defend her own decisions. “You think I’m just trying to hurt Swan, but that’s not the case, Emma. That’s never been the case.” Leaning a hip against the countertop, she watched the coffee pot heat and steam. Her chin quivered, but at least she no longer sniveled pathetically. “Snow White called Swan an abomination and banished her from the kingdom, so that no one would see what had become of her daughter. I had no idea she was gone, until it was too late. And then… there were circumstances that kept us apart.” Her eyes roamed down to the floor, and she swallowed with effort and silently choked on her tears. “She would shatter again if she knew.” 

 

Across town, a swirling grey cloud of magic revealed Dark Swan in the middle of the woods. The land beneath her feet had barely solidified when her mouth opened to scream. Her pale hands clawed through the air, balling into fists as she doubled over in a mixture of excruciating heartbreak and blinding rage. The noise that ripped itself from her throat, raw and unhinged, sent birds scattering into the sky. The sound of their wings could barely be heard above her own animalistic screams. Magic crackled around her like live wires, sparks erupting from her palms to dance across her knuckles. The emotions ravaged her vocal cords until thick teardrops blurred her vision and her lungs were ablaze. Shaking where she stood, Swan attempted to gather herself back together like a child trying to glue together a vase they’d accidentally broken. The problem was that she could appear together, but the sharp shards of herself still cut every time she breathed, and though she was loath to admit it, she craved a sense of comfort.

 

Which explained why minutes later, after she’d stopped trembling, Swan appeared in Regina’s office out of nowhere with a bagged lunch for them both. Not that she felt hungry at all, but it gave her an excuse to at least be there without much explanation. “You missed breakfast.” Swan stated, her voice altogether much raspier and quieter than usual. She placed the bag on Regina’s desk, then she dropped her own unceremoniously on the chair.

 

Regina gaped up at Swan in surprise, then furrowed her brows suspiciously and put down the pen in her hand. She reached for the paper bag and pulled out the contents – a sandwich, an apple and a bag of potato chips. Shining the apple, she leaned back and took a bite, all while using it as an opportunity to stare at Swan. 

 

“If this is a peace offering, then I accept,” Regina gently replied, although she could tell by Swan’s sullen face that there was more to it than that. “Are you upset?” She had the urge to touch Swan, or at least be closer to her, and impulsively acted on it. Standing up and moving around the desk, she sensed an unusual energy between them, and grabbed for one of Swan’s hands. Her magic reacted to the raw dark magic that still buzzed around Swan. “What happened?” she asked.

 

What little composure Swan had managed to fabricate wobbled at the clasp of her hand. Throat constricting, she could barely swallow. Words unable to form, she shook her head as if to say nothing was wrong. The problem, however, was that the lie didn’t reach her eyes in time. A solitary tear slid down her face, a traitor that said more than her mouth ever could. Sucking in a stuttered breath, Swan tried to school her features into an unreadable stolid expression but the warring emotions were too much. The corners of her lips tugged downwards, and she tucked her chin against her chest to conceal the way it tried to tremble.

 

For all the power she possessed, Swan had never felt more pathetic. There was no taunting from the Darkness that crashed around in her body much like tsunami waves. It too felt the pain, and supplied outrage to go hand in hand with it. “I hadn’t intended to be a distraction from your work—” How could she muster up her pride, and then squash it in order to utter that she sought comfort from the woman she had choked the night before? Simple. She couldn’t. “I wanted to know if there was a house I could rent? Alone.” She husked quickly—perhaps too quickly.

 

The sound of Regina’s phone receiving a text echoed in the large office, and if she glanced she would be able to see it was from Emma. **We have a problem. Swan is missing. The Queen just asked if Swan had slept with another woman when they were separated. Swan said no. Queen told Swan she’d been with other people and something about Swan thinking she was hers. Swan was all ‘not anymore’ and just poofed off. Queen is here in tears with the kid.**

 

Regina parted her lips to speak, but before she could get more information out of Swan, she glimpsed the message on her phone. She lifted the device to read Emma’s text, then changed the setting to silent and stowed it away in her desk without replying. “I’m not exactly a real estate agent, but I would be happy to drive you around to look at houses,” she softly offered. “However, I am concerned about what happened this morning. Emma just sent me a message.” 

 

No sign of surprise showed on Swan’s face at the insight of Emma sharing the details of what had transpired. _Typical savior, always trying to meddle with things she ought not to concern herself with._

 

Gathering up a few tissues, Regina held them out to Swan and guided her towards a spot where they could sit on the couch. Rather than sit far away, Regina perched right beside Swan and rubbed her back consolingly. 

 

Being led to the couch as if docile would have normally resulted in at least some acid laced words, if not worse, and yet Swan mutely allowed it. Regina’s kindness was so undeserved, yet so very needed. Every touch sent pain prickling through her body, her skin greedy for the contact: like an addict she felt simultaneous relief and nausea. It was enough and not enough all at once, just as it was Regina but not her Regina.

 

“Not that I am defending the Queen’s actions in any way, as I have firsthand knowledge of how petty and twisted she can be, but surely she realizes that she made a mistake,” Regina intoned. “There’s also the possibility that she was trying to rile you and expected a different outcome.”

 

If she still harbored any grudges about the choking incident from the previous night, Regina didn’t show it. She flicked her fingers together, magically producing a glass of water and some pain tablets that she arranged in front of Swan on the coffee table. “Why don’t you spend the day with me?” she suggested. “Take some time away from the Queen, and if you’d still like to look at houses later this afternoon, we can do that. In the meantime, if you want to talk about anything…” She trailed off, giving Swan the space to choose whether or not to discuss the wishverse and the Queen’s betrayal. 

 

“Perhaps.” Swan croaked, her voice breaking from the previous stress she’d put on her voice box. “I think that would be for the best.” She quietly hissed into the glass of water, knowing all too well how volcanic her own oscillating emotions were. If she were to see The Queen right then she’d erupt, and who would that benefit? Certainly not her. She’d collected enough regret in her life to fill the kingdom without adding to it. “Earlier, in that pretentious little therapy fiasco, she said that I split in two, but she doesn’t even know how or why.” Swan gazed into the water and blinked slowly at her red-eyed reflection that glimmered back. “I did it to be with her.”

 

Something akin to a laugh escaped Swan, a breathy exhale that held no warmth or humor, but carried a deep sadness. “I wished I could be free to be with her. When you and Emma left, we all came back, but I still had those memories of before. Then a few weeks later, here she was again in my kingdom, and for a moment I just wished I could be free to pursue a life that I wanted without fear, a life where I could get to know her more... intimately.” Swan shrugged lightly, unashamed of her desires. “Next thing I knew I was being ripped apart. Literally. The Princess half of me lay trembling. She looked at me as though I were a monster and I – well – I vanished from the room before she could shriek for the guards. I found The Queen.” Swan’s lips curled into a smile before she could control herself, the memory bringing such joy just for the present moment to snatch it away.

 

“One night I ventured back to the castle, to speak with my split half and my parents, but they rejected me on sight.” Anger laced her husked words, her eyes hardening as she placed the glass of water back onto the table so she didn’t accidently crush it in her grasp. “They detested me for who I was. What I represented, and banished me from their land. They were disgusted by my very presence, and said that I would tear their kingdom apart. Only an abomination would ever wish to see their kingdom ruined. I had no idea that once I left they’d have The Blue Fairy drench their castle in light magic so I could never see inside, let alone step foot in it again. It was as if I didn’t exist to them, and The Queen, she vanished. I sent more ravens and messages than I will ever admit and none of them, not a single parchment or flicker of magic ever got returned.”

 

Swan sank further into the couch, tears pricking her eyes as she laughed sardonically. “I gave up my entire kingdom, my family, all for her. And now I’m here, and we have a child, and she’s gloating about bedding people whose names she can’t even remember.”

 

Regina tensed and her forehead showed off all of the signs of an oncoming stress headache, but her eyes also glistened visibly as Swan concluded the story. It had a profound effect on Regina, not just because she was witnessing Swan unravel, but also because it disturbed her to find out that Swan had to shatter and become an outcast just to be with the Queen. That apparently meant that only the darker urges in Emma would ever extend themselves towards a person like her. The goodness in Emma wanted nothing to do with Regina, and rightfully so. Regina found herself stuck on this point, and how Snow and Charming had so easily exiled their daughter for desiring the Queen. 

 

By itself, it was enough to shake Regina’s trust in her own family, even if they weren’t the ones truly responsible. She pressed her hand gently into her side, comforting herself in the most inconspicuous way, while she tried to focus on Swan. To her own surprise, she leaned in and drew Swan into a hug, breathing deeply as she held on tightly to this piece of Emma that still chose her, even when faced with hardship. 

 

But then Regina was also forced to confront the fact of the Queen’s cruelty towards Swan. “She doesn’t remember their names? That’s not like her,” she almost defensively concluded. “She always remembers names. Even the names of people who don’t deserve to be remembered.” Regina attempted to sit back, but Swan was still latched onto her, and so she just shifted carefully and continued on with her soothing attentions. She continued rubbing her hand over Swan’s back, and rested her chin on Swan’s shoulder, prolonging the embrace until she felt strangely relaxed from it. 

 

“She must be lying to you, or telling you a partial truth,” Regina muttered. “I am very sorry you sacrificed so much for her, and that she’s manipulating you now. I won’t even pretend to know what her intentions are, or why she’s trying to toy with you emotionally. But I’ve seen how she looks at you, Em… - Emma. I know that look. It’s rare, and special. She hasn’t looked at anyone like that since… well, since Daniel.” Her voice went hoarse, and she slowly broke from the hug, reaching down instead to hold and pat Swan’s hand. “There’s no excuse for how she’s treating you,” she sighed. “But she tends to lie only when she’s desperate. She lied during the curse, because she was afraid of losing her son. She thought he would want her dead.” Self-consciously, she fell silent as she considered just what to share with Swan. “She also lied when she convinced Sidney to murder King Leopold. She used Sidney, but if that plan hadn’t worked, she would have ended her own life. The King had the protection of the Blue Fairy shielding him from all of his enemies, and the Queen could never lift a hand against him: only someone that the King trusted with his life could take it away.” Pausing to wet her lips, Regina came to a realization that she spoke aloud. “And, as long as I’m being honest with you, the Queen has been lying to Snow for most of her life. Maybe I’m still lying to Snow, just out of pure convenience. And Emma… “ 

 

Regina trailed off uncertainly, and shook her head. “Try to rest for a little while,” she murmured. “We can deal with the Queen later. If that means finding you a place to live without her, so be it. I’ll help you in any way I can.” 

 

Swan sniffed as she absorbed the information, yet found herself coiling around Regina all the same. The soft warmth of her coupled with the scent of her skin only furthered the burning need within Swan to get closer. Not with this Regina, however tempting, but with the one who’d done nothing but wrap her up in webs of deceit since they came to this land. Hope, at the best of times, could be the most dangerous thing a person could possess—a sharp little sliver that embedded under the skin and drew blood, managing to coax the wielder into gripping at it tighter, furthering their pain. Funny that Swan felt it right then, drawing her closer to a madness that could only be from one thing. _Something she’d never admit to herself._

 

In the back of her mind, Swan drew conclusions and swiftly tucked them away for later. For now, she had to sit and think, and let some of that anger dissipate before it consumed what was left of her emotions. If she went through with her newly formed plan, a little anger would be welcome, but full blown destruction had no place in it, unfortunately. The darkness inside her lamented that fact, though approved of the calculated lengths Swan currently prepared to go through in order to rectify the situation. It was becoming clear now—she'd been a fool to second-guess her instincts earlier but in the strangest of ways it had paid off. It wasn’t every day Swan got to hear the innermost workings of someone’s mind—and in providing comfort, Regina had granted her just that. 

 

Regina gently withdrew to her desk and began to rifle through her pile of paperwork.

 

As Swan looked over to Regina and into her eyes, Swan couldn’t help the honesty in her voice as she murmured gratefully, “You didn’t have to try and comfort me, but you did. I don’t think you grasp just how much that means to me. I’d forgotten what it felt like—receiving compassion from others.” With regained composure and confidence, Swan got to her feet and paused near Regina’s desk, her hand splaying across the surface as she leaned forward to add quietly. “You know, in the spirit of giving insight, Emma looks at you the same way she did with Neal. So I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself or spend too much time worrying if you’re lying to Emma, because I suspect you’re not alone.”

 

In a stubborn refusal to react, Regina stood rigidly and continued to peer down at her paperwork.

 

Straightening up, Swan drew in a short breath and cleared her sore throat before announcing lightly, “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m going to see what they sell around here for children. My daughter should have a stuffed animal.” With a slight pause, Swan bowed her head slightly as she murmured. “Would you mind if I came back after you’ve finished work so we could look at those houses?”

 

Regina noted the sudden change in Swan and chose not to question it, if only because she still felt uncomfortable. She searched through a small folio of business cards and placed two in front of Swan. “These are some nice boutiques,” she explained. “I bought many of Henry’s things there. Just be careful in selecting stuffed toys – they can be choking hazards. I don’t mind if you come back here after you finish your shopping. I’ll see you later.” Her lips twitched into a small smile that Swan returned before poofing away in a grey storm cloud of magic. 

 

 

Back at Emma’s house, the Queen was supposed to be resting. She had curled up in Emma’s bed but found herself unable to sleep. Her fingers gripped the pillowcase closer, and she buried her face in the scents of someone who smelled just like Swan. She could hear _that someone_ out in the hallway, pacing back and forth to pacify the baby. All of the energy had gone out of the Queen, and she hardly budged when she heard the baby’s quiet, hungry cooing. After a little while, when silence filled the house, the Queen shut her eyes as she waited for Emma to come to her—but instead she was left alone, and at last succumbed to sleep. 

 

Emma ventured into the bedroom only after she was absolutely certain the infant had been burped and settled into a deep sleep in her basket. She left the door open so she could hear if the little one stirred, and sank heavily onto the bed to sit next to The Queen. Cautiously, Emma observed her, noting how gentle her features were when she wasn’t so guarded. Impulsively, she reached out to delicately wipe away the remnants of moisture under The Queen’s eyes with her thumb, then slipped from the bed to gather a spare blanket. She tucked it over her gently, and wondered not for the first time why Regina felt so compelled to shatter whatever happiness she found time and again. Quietly, Emma left before the temptation to wake her up, and ask her why increased. It was best if the Queen slept.

 

 

Several hours and many shops later, Swan realized how much she missed the town, despite this being her second day in it. The memories of the place resonated within her even as she discovered it all. Memories from the Emma that belonged here blurred with her own until they overlapped in places.

 

After thoroughly exploring The Bippity Boppity Baby Boutique and buying half the store, she found herself strolling leisurely along, until her feet brought her to a storefront that evoked a sense of deja vu. The misted glass had been stained with dark greens, reds and purples, obscuring what the shop contained. The sign above that stated ‘Forbidden Fruits’ had been painted black, and her lips quirked in amusement as she tried to peer inside curiously. Why she felt drawn to the place eluded her, yet she pushed open the door all same to step inside.

 

“This certainly isn’t a shop for children,” Swan whispered under her breath delightedly. Expensive garments of the finest silks and leathers hung from floor to ceiling, and she wandered further into the deceptively large store with a sense of awe and wonder at what it had to offer. “Forbidden fruits indeed,” she murmured throatily, her fingertips trailing over paddles and whips before she halted at the sight of something that captivated her innermost curiosities. “What a fantastic contraption.”

 

“You know, one day I swear you’re going to work up the nerve to buy that,” a roguish voice filled with humor announced behind her.

 

Turning, Swan quirked an eyebrow, her head tilting to the side as she took in the sight of a young woman with thick blonde hair and a warm, bright grin. The name on her tag said Goldi.

 

“Don’t worry Sheriff,” Goldi added with amusement. “I promise not to mention that you’ve been in here, just like the last fifty thousand times.” She smiled mischievously, and left the desk to walk over to where Swan stood. “You know I could bag it for you now, right? Nobody would know, and I can even grab the one you want to go with it.”

 

“What?” Swan asked in confusion, her eyes searching Goldi’s for any clue as to what she meant.

 

Goldi smirked, and rolled her eyes before using her thumb to point behind her to the back room. “Come on, Sheriff, you’re not exactly subtle. It’s the same one you eye up every time. Buy it. You know you want to—”

 

Intrigued by what the Emma of this land had her sights set on, and why she appeared to be so hesitant to own it, Swan grinned at getting to know first hand what exactly this secret was. “You’re right,” she husked warmly, “I do want to buy the items.”

 

Goldi stood for a moment, shocked and amused that finally her coaxing had paid off. “Seriously? You’re not going to change your mind again before I even ring it up?”

 

Whatever it was, Emma either felt embarrassed or ashamed, and either way Swan wanted to find out why. “You heard me,” she stated confidently. “On you go.”

 

Twenty minutes later, with one very full and discreet bag from Forbidden Fruits, and several other purchases in hand, Swan swirled back into Regina’s office in her cloud of magic.

 

Regina had just finished for the day and startled at Swan’s unexpected return. She flinched at how close Swan stood, but covered it by pretending she was just fussing with her scarf. 

 

“I assume you’re ready to look at houses?” Regina asked, eyeing up Swan’s bags and fleetingly wondering what Swan bought. Her mind went immediately to tiny booties and baby rompers, and she resisted the temptation to peek into the bags. “I was able to speak to some realtors and landlords today on your behalf, but I have a specific house in mind and I borrowed the key from the owner. We’ll take my car, if you don’t mind. I try to only use magic when the need calls for it.” 

 

With a small wave, Regina gestured out towards the hall and started down the stairs with Swan following her lead. “So I trust you had a good day? You seem to be in better spirits. I don’t suppose you found out why the Queen lied to you…?” As much she would have liked to stay out of the Queen’s business, she was as equally curious about the couple’s fall-out. Not even twenty-four hours ago, she wanted to break them up, but her opinion had been drastically altered, even if her motivations were the slightest bit selfish: if this other, less stable version of herself could find happiness, then what prevented her from finding it again? 

 

But perhaps the problem had never been finding it: Regina was good enough at that. Remaining happy, on the other hand, _proved impossible_ and that was always her own fault. Regina fretfully brooded over this as she got into the driver’s seat, and squinted over at Swan in an attempt to gauge her mood. 

 

In turn, Swan watched Regina closely, especially once they were in the car and Regina’s attention was directed towards the road. There seemed to be a slight edginess to Regina that hadn’t been there when Swan left earlier. Perhaps her parting words had gotten to Regina, or the proximity of being around her had inevitably begun to leave her uncomfortable. “To answer your question, I haven’t yet contacted the Queen. I figured that waiting until later when we’re both more… _calm_ would be better for everyone.” That and the fact that Swan had already decided on her own course of action, and it very much involved having a home to go to at the end of the day.

 

“I had a productive afternoon,” Swan explained. “I found a lot of things that I hope my daughter likes. I bought her a stuffed tiger, and a lion, and a fox, and squirrel with a soft, fluffy tail.” Despite the darkness that she carried, Swan’s eyes lit up as she listed her purchases. The pride and love shone from her like sunbeams as she spoke. “I bought a unicorn mobile to hang above her crib, plenty of clothes, and so many small shoes— barely the length of my thumb—and intricately knitted tiny gloves and hats. And a little suit that transforms her into a creature called Tigger after she’s been bathed.” Suddenly aware of her own enthusiasm, Swan cleared her throat and settled back in the passenger seat, with the landscape passing by as she finally asked. “Do you think she’ll like them?”

 

 

“Some day—when she is old enough to form an opinion,” Regina smirked, although Swan’s delighted rambling tugged at her heart strings and left her feeling bereft. 

 

 

The Queen also felt bereft for entirely different reasons as she woke up in an unsettled frame of mind, without ever having realized she had fallen asleep. She instinctively glanced around in the hope of seeing Swan, but no one was there. Slipping out of bed, she went into Emma’s bathroom and took a long hot shower to make herself feel better. Nosy as ever, she went through all of Emma’s cabinets and sniffed the deodorants and soaps on Emma’s vanity. After she thoroughly patted herself dry, she borrowed Emma’s thick robe and then went to find her. 

 

The baby was still asleep in her bassinet, and the Queen stood and dreamily watched her daughter for a minute. She spotted Emma on the couch in the living room, and boldly sat down right next to her. “I don’t think she’s coming back,” she whispered, and her eyes instantly brimmed with tears that she refused to let fall. “Do you mind if we stay here another night? I would go to Regina’s but I don’t want to see her right now.”

 

“Just give Swan some time to process,” Emma quietly insisted, hiding as best she could her surprise at seeing The Queen in her robe, hair still wet and skin damp from her shower. “I’m sure she’ll turn up when she’s ready to talk.” Hopefully not that very second, Emma privately added, lest she be skewered by Swan’s jealousy at being so close to The Queen in a barely dressed state. Subtly, Emma inched further away from the woman, and trained her eyes on the table so that she didn’t glimpse what she shouldn’t. “Yeah, you can stay here tonight, that’s—uh—not a problem.”

 

Where was Regina anyway, and why hadn’t she texted back all day? Emma chewed on her bottom lip anxiously and quickly typed up a message to send. **Hey, what’s going on? Haven’t heard from you all day. Worried.**

Regina heard the buzz of her phone, but ignored it and concentrated on unlocking the door to the home she had discovered was available. 

Standing in the foyer of the large, vacant house, Swan tipped her head back to admire the staircase before she strode through to the kitchen, and then sought out the living room. “You’re right. This place does have potential to be great.” Upstairs, a master bedroom with its own bathroom beckoned her, and the three other, smaller rooms seemed ideal. Already she knew which would be the nursery. “I want this. It has plenty of space, and large gardens.” And it was tucked away closer to the edge of town which meant nosy neighbors wouldn’t be inclined to venture over. Swan turned expectantly to Regina and raised her eyebrows. “What do I need to sign to get it?”

 

“It’s one of Rumplestiltskin’s many vacant properties,” Regina replied. “He owes me, so we shouldn’t have too much trouble getting him to part with it.” She nervously fiddled with the belt on her jacket, unwilling to explain just why Rumplestiltskin owed her. 

 

When the Queen had left, Regina’s relationship with him seemed forever tarnished. Only after a long period of time during which they avoided one another, he came to her office one day to apologize. He made no excuses for his dishonorable behavior, and she told him the truth of what she felt: she had always viewed him strictly as her teacher, and in some respects as a stand-in for her passive father. As it turned out, what he craved most from the Evil Queen was her power, and although Regina knew that power sometimes came down to sex for the Queen, it still sickened her that Rumple took the Queen’s tawdry offers while she was in town. 

 

Rumple promised to give Regina whatever she wanted, and Regina asked for space—but he was Henry’s grandfather after all. Space didn’t seem possible, so she figured that she might as well request this home for Dark Swan and the Queen. Eventually, she thought that she could confront the Queen over what exactly had happened with Rumple, but doing that right now would be demanding too much emotionally, and Regina had no desire to make things worse for Swan. “I’ll just get Rumple to fax us the paperwork,” she muttered, and lifted her phone to send him a text. 

 

Regina read Emma’s messages after she notified Rumple that she would be taking the home on King Street off his hands. Her replies to Emma were short and to the point. 

 

**Helping Swan find a house. She came to my office this morning, completely distraught.**

Truth be told, Regina had planned to text Emma back earlier, but in the end she chose not to do it. In some small way, she thought she could sense the Queen’s pain, and she wanted to delay the moment when she would have to be in the presence of the Queen again. If she responded to Emma, Regina assumed she would be asked to meddle, and for some reason she didn’t want her suspicions about the Queen’s recent history to be confirmed. She wasted hours at work today contemplating different scenarios that could have made the Queen regress this much, and the most plausible left Regina lightheaded or trembling in rage. She could only hope to be wrong.

Hesitatingly, she typed out another message to Emma. **I do not for a second believe that the Queen slept around.**

 

Emma experienced a sudden pang of annoyance at the knowledge Regina hadn’t texted her back due to being busy with Swan, and almost sent another text that she hastily deleted.

 

The Queen was busy making herself at home, and she moved closer when Emma backed away. Even so, she was more clingy than predatory and sulkily pouted her bottom lip. 

 

“Why don’t you love Regina?” the Queen abruptly huffed, and glared crossly at Emma. “You know, it’s clear that you’re attracted to her. Is it because of your family, or is it something about her?” 

 

Emma swallowed thickly and turned to eloquently say, “Uhh—nope, this is not a conversation I’m having with you.” Jesus, what was it with everyone getting all up in her business? “Shouldn’t you be getting dressed or something?”

 

Frowning into her lap, Emma picked up her phone and sighed as she furiously typed back, **Yeah I’m not convinced she did either. Any tips on how to get the Queen to stop asking personal questions?**

 

The Queen kicked back and sprawled on the couch with an almost feline grace. “Why would I put on clothes right now when I’m nursing? As soon as the baby wakes up she’s going to want to eat. This just makes it easier.” She had a valid argument, but she also picked up on Emma’s discomfort. “Are you bothered that I’m naked under this robe?” she laughed, all too amused by Emma’s paranoia. “Worried that you’ll get a good look at me, and then you won’t be able to get Regina out of your head when you’re touching yourself?” Rolling her eyes, she went back to her old obnoxious self and prodded Emma with her toes. “What are you telling Regina, anyway?” 

 

 

Apparently very little, because Regina clutched her phone and saw that Emma was typing to her, although she never received another message. **What sort of personal questions is she asking you? Perhaps if you open up to her about something, she will be honest with you in return. I don’t think she plans to speak to Swan.**

 

And Regina also doubted that Swan intended to speak to the Queen any time soon. 

 

“Thank you, Regina,” Swan smiled gratefully, taking a moment to relish that this was going to be her house from now on. “I’m home.” She sighed softly to no one, tracing her pale fingertips against the wall closest to her before wandering off upstairs to get a start on decorating her daughter’s room with a flourish of magic. Tonight couldn’t get here fast enough, but she had a lot to do in order to prepare.

 

Regina wandered after Swan up the staircase and into the bedroom that would be the nursery. She stepped inside and took in the changed lavender wallpaper and a mural with all colors of the rainbow that somehow still complemented the pastel theme. 

 

“Oh, Emma, this is beautiful,” Regina breathed, with no thought of censoring herself as she became lost in the fantasy of being a mother again. Unable to shake out of it, she drifted towards the crib and gazed down into it, even though she knew it would be empty. Her hand fell on a soft bear that sat waiting for its new companion. She felt like she could cry then, but instead she held onto the bear and turned to Swan. 

 

“I think I liked you better when you were crying.” Emma groaned dramatically to the Queen, and lifted her hand to slap at the offending toes that were digging into her ribs. “Quit it!” She hissed quietly, her brows furrowing in aggravation. “I already have a teenager to look after. I don’t need you acting like one.” It was easier to deflect the Queen’s questions than entertain the idea of even answering them because why should she? She didn’t trust The Queen and she sure as hell wasn’t about to discuss things she wouldn’t discuss with her actual friends.

 

**Nevermind. Enjoy your house hunting.** Emma shot back faster than she would readily admit. Filled with frustration she stuffed her phone into her pocket and moved to grab a soda from the fridge. Anything to get some space. When she returned she specifically sat on a chair across from The Queen, where her feet and hands couldn’t reach. She smiled smugly and took a refreshing sip of her drink, content for at least a second that she had out-maneuvered The Queen. She grabbed her phone again and busied herself with important stuff, like Candy Crush and snap chat with Henry.

 

Meanwhile, Swan too was busy as she searched through the bags of her purchases. 

 

Overwhelmed by the emotion and praise in Regina’s words and gaze, Swan clutched the tiniest pair of shoes against her chest and held her other hand out to show the smallest white shirt with the words, _My Other Mom’s A Queen_ , written in black sparkly glitter across the front, with a little golden crown atop the Q. “What do you think?” She asked softly, her own eyes shining as she tried to act nonchalant. “I saw many in the shop with things written on them, but I wanted to make one more personal.” It might be absurd but in her own way Swan made it clear that in her mind, regardless of the fallout from this morning, she still considered The Queen family. “Will she approve, or find it ridiculous?”

 

Regina had no idea how to respond, because her life just continued to be one unpredictable situation after the next. She never would have guessed that after the upheaval that the Queen’s re-appearance caused, she’d be mooning over these little newborn outfits, and completely reconsidering her previously well-defined opinions about tacky phrases on baby clothing. “Probably both,” she guessed, offering up her thoughts freely. “But it’s a very sweet gesture.” Her knees went suddenly weak, and she forced herself to walk the distance to the window. 

 

What she assumed she’d be feeling was envy, but what she actually felt surpassed that: she experienced an almost bone-weary exhaustion, a hopeless longing that almost doubled her over. “You put a lot of thought into making a home for her,” she reflected. “By her, I mean the Queen. Obviously all of this is for your daughter, too – but you expect the Queen to live here with you.” Her eyes shined with conflicted happiness, and she playfully snatched the tiny tee from Swan’s hands. “You should get her a matching one, which says ‘The Queen’,” she suggested. 

 

Giving the garment back to Swan, Regina glanced down at her texts in disappointment, cringing as she read the brief replies. “Emma has been texting me,” she frowned. 

 

But the texts had stopped, and now the Queen was watching Emma lose at Candy Crush. Grumpily, she stood up and moved over to sit on the arm of the chair. “You can’t just sit here and ignore me,” she complained. 

 

Emma rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath, “Yeah well, it was worth a shot.”

 

“Is that Henry you’re talking to?” Confused by how Snapchat worked, the Queen tried to talk directly to the brief video of Henry. Although she had Regina’s memories of how to use technology, this app made little sense to her. “I’ve missed him,” she admitted. “He’s grown so much since I left. I wonder what he’ll think of his sister. In a way, they are siblings.”

 

Despite her complaints, Emma shifted to let The Queen get comfortable on the arm of the chair and showed her some of the previous snap-chats that she and Henry had sent to each other. “This was last week when we got ice cream while Regina was at work. We took her some later.” Their faces looked comically distorted and they were clearly grinning in the video. “I’m sure once we tell him you guys are here, he’ll be excited about having a little sister of sorts. He’s a good kid.”

 

“He is, isn’t he?” The Queen lilted. “And who knows? Maybe he’ll even have more siblings one day if you and Regina get your act together.” She considered this possibility, and then shook her head. “Actually, I doubt Regina wants that.”

 

Emma nearly cracked the phone screen as she sputtered quickly, “You know, I’m starting to feel like you’re trying to push me into something. Maybe concentrate on your own relationship.”

 

“Defensive, aren’t we?” The Queen jeered, and yanked the phone out of Emma’s hand to attempt a game of Candy Crush. “Listen, Emma, I’m just giving you a hard time for my own amusement.” She tapped her finger against brightly colored digital candy pieces. “But you also remind me of someone I knew once.” Her throat tightened at that admission, and she lost her concentration on the game. “She suffered because she wouldn’t come to terms with who she was, and that self-loathing can make a person wither inside. I’m not saying you’re exactly like her, but I do see certain similarities that worry me.” Withdrawing from the arm of the sofa, she stepped around the living room with Emma’s phone in her hand, pretending to be completely engrossed even though her score had already been calculated. “I just care about your well-being. I have known you as long as you’ve known Regina. We’re sort of… friends, you and I.” 

 

Regina was also looking down at her own cell phone, but she gave up on the possibility of Emma texting again and popped the phone back into her pocket. She still felt emotionally torn, and deeply tired. 

 

There were many things that Swan could have chosen to say as she watched Regina—because the woman’s face resonated every fleeting thought that went through her mind. _So easy to pick apart. So easy to use against her._ Everything surfaced so readily as if begging to be seen, and Swan chose to look—to accept what was given without insidiously attempting to corrupt and twist it around in order to undermine and attack anyone. She chose to step forward, so absorbed in the moment that she felt compelled to act. One hand settled gently on Regina’s forearm as Swan gazed into her eyes. “I hope you know you can have anything you want in the world, Regina.”

 

Sensing that if she lingered any longer it could cause discomfort, Swan retreated with the small shirt and grinned slightly. “Maybe I will get the Queen her own t-shirt. On the back it could say something like, _I’m only evil on the weekends, or, I’m only evil in the bedroom._ She’d probably delight in wearing that around Snow.” 

 

Regina continued to check her phone and seemed far from happy or reassured. Swan quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. “What’s she been saying to make you frown like that?”

 

“Nothing at all,” Regina impatiently told Swan, as she stood rigidly at the window and allowed tears to well in her eyes. “She won’t even answer my questions, but what else is new? You say I can have whatever I want, and I know exactly what you’re implying, but it’s far more complicated than that.” 

 

Well that was a setback. Swan cocked her head to the side and mulled over the information as if savoring a fine wine. “So make her answer them.” She concluded, ignoring the excuse of complications. “I intend to speak to The Queen soon. With us out of the way, you’d be free to talk to Emma. Although,” Swan paused, looking around the room with a slight furrowing of her brow, “would you mind watching our daughter tonight? I don’t want her here if we argue…” _Not exactly the whole truth but enough regardless._

 

Unbeknownst to Swan, her other Half was already in the middle of an argument with the Queen. 

 

“I know who I am, and I don’t need you to push me in a direction you think I should go,” Emma grunted stubbornly. Any humor she might have held had been replaced with exasperation. She all but leapt from her seat and proceeded to stomp after The Queen with a snap of, “Give me back my phone!” Emma felt the tension building as the muscles in her shoulders became stiff, and she hunched over to splay her palms against the table. “If you care at all you’ll give me back my damn phone. I’m not about to chase you around.” And yet she did—Emma straightened up and lunged–she tried to grab the Queen’s wrist to overpower her and reclaim the phone.

 

The Queen blanched and shook so tremulously that the phone simply fumbled out of her fingers. The screen shattered as it made impact with the floor and for the second time that day, glass shards flew in every direction all over Emma’s living room. With a rapid flick of her fingers, the Queen put the phone back together. Her overreaction caused her self-annoyance, but she at least she didn’t have to make any excuses for her clumsiness. 

 

The baby fortunately awakened at the noise, and the Queen was able to distract Emma by breastfeeding. As soon she opened the robe, she made sure Emma turned away in embarrassment. “They’re only breasts,” she taunted with a smile. “I’m sure you’ve seen a pair other than your own before—maybe on the internet.”

 

Emma’s shoulders sagged over the remark, and then she crossed her arms. 

 

It was the same posture that Regina currently held as she faced Swan. With her arms wrapped in front of her, Regina shrugged easily. “We should probably head over to Emma’s right now actually. I can pick up the baby and then go home. I don’t think tonight’s a great time to have a discussion with Emma, but I wish you luck with the conversation you’re going to have with the Queen.” She collected herself, giving one wistful glance around at the nursery before heading for her car.

The drive over to Emma’s only took minutes, and Regina reluctantly went up the front steps to knock on the door. It was all just for the sake of propriety, because she waited mere seconds before letting herself and Swan inside. “We’re back,” she announced. “Swan would like to take the Queen to see their new home, and I’m going to watch the baby tonight. I’ll call you in the morning—”

 

“Oh thank god!” Emma replied in a rush, practically jogging to meet Regina as she came in. The relief washed over her like the warm spray of her shower and for the first time that day, she felt like she could breathe properly. Though before she could say anything else, Swan swooped in, deposited the just fed infant into Regina’s arms and vanished with The Queen, whether she liked it or not. Wide eyed, Emma looked around as if making sure they were alone before turning to blink at Regina. “What the hell just happened?”

 

“I think Swan and the Queen are going to spend a little time reuniting tonight,” Regina offhandedly explained, and then searched for a cloth to rest over her shoulder as she burped the baby. She located the infant’s diaper bag, found what she needed and made herself useful. “If it goes badly, you’d better be prepared to intervene as Sheriff. But I predict that we’re unlikely to hear from them until the morning.” Even though she had intended to grab the baby and go, she sat down on Emma’s couch. “I assume you’ve had a long day of babysitting both the baby and the Queen, so I won’t stay long.”

 

Appearing back in the home that Swan had secured for them, magic billowed around the couple only to vanish just as quickly. Swan moved just as fast, taking in the robe with a sneer as she grabbed the front of it and pushed The Queen into the wall where they stood in the hallway. Her fist tightened in the material as she pressed herself fully against her. An animalistic growl vibrated within her throat as her free hand clasped The Queen’s chin and turned it slowly so that her ear was exposed. Swan exhaled against her throat, the tip of her nose trailing upwards as she pressed her lips against her ear. “I’ve had a very thought-provoking day, _your Majesty._ ” Swan whispered, her tone sultry, “While you did tell me some semblance of truth, you lied straight to my face to try and hurt me. You succeeded, and for that, _you’re about to be punished._ ” She paused then as if to let the words resonate with Regina, her lips caressing the shell of her ear as she husked, “You _are_ mine.”

 

Swan turned the Queen’s face back to her own and kissed her viciously — a desperation born of bruising force and pure need in her attempt to erase whatever memories The Queen had of the person she’d slept with during those months apart. 

 

“Do you understand?” Swan breathlessly demanded, while her hand tangled in the robe, jerking The Queen closer until there was no possible space between them. “You’re mine,” she reiterated, her hand moving swiftly from the robe to delve inside it, and splaying against the Queen’s lower back. Her short nails bit into the skin as she clutched the Queen tightly. “ _Say it._ ” Swan snarled. “Say you’re mine and no one else's.”

 

Fear tingled up her spine, but the Queen coolly met Swan’s eyes and a slow grin spread across her lips. 

 

This was the response she had wanted to evoke all along, and she remained mellow even as a delicious sensation of fright shot through her: she felt like she was hanging from a precipice, and she could feel the building thrill of the fall inside of her body, somewhere deep and carnal. She kissed Swan with as much brutal violence, with teeth and tongue and no room for air. Her nipples were taut and dark red with arousal, her full breasts on display as the robe dropped around her. “I’m yours,” the Queen groaned, encouraging Swan’s claws to tear her apart. “Make me feel it. Make me feel nothing but you all over my body.”

 

_Those words, oh, those words._ They did more than The Queen could possibly know, and a chorus of voices whispered back in Swan’s head, frenetic and enthusiastic. _Do it. Show her. Have her. Make her. Take her. Consume. Control. Keep forever._ The voices brought out her ferociousness, and brought fluidity and power to her movements. 

 

The grin that spread across Swan’s lips could only be described as feral. One hand on The Queen’s back, the other tangling in her hair as magic swept them up and spit them out in the room for their daughter. Risky, of course, to show this so soon but Swan had to make a point. They weren’t just anywhere, and this wasn’t just a heat of the moment fling.

 

“Welcome home.” Swan murmured throatily, allowing The Queen precious few seconds to look around the nursery.

 

Time, however, was soon up. Swan swiftly lifted her and slung her deftly over her shoulder in much the same fashion as a guard carrying a common bandit back to the village. She strode out of the room and to the left, one booted foot raised to kick the master bedroom door open. With a flick of her fingers, she sent magic out to slam it at her back. 

 

Unceremoniously, Swan dumped The Queen onto the bed and motioned to the bag next to her. “While I cleared my head I discovered something that might pique your interest. A shop that Emma apparently frequents in secret. She’s had her eye on the items in there, and I thought, why not put them to good use.” Swan stated coyly, her lips twitching into a smug, if not amused, smirk. “Look.” She commanded coolly, despite the hot excitement building within her core. “I know you’re curious. Why don’t you see just what this Emma wants to do to your other half, and then take a moment to consider that I will have you first in the way she desires most?” It was a strange power move but one Swan took confidently as she towered above The Queen, her eyes roaming the nakedness of her unabashedly while she waited.

 

The Queen crawled on her knees to reach for the bag and lifted a heavy, realistic-looking toy from its confines. “Impressive, but the Sheriff will have to grow a pair to go along with this if she ever hopes to bed Regina.” She raised her eyebrows at Swan, but tried to conceal her surprise over the thickness and size of the instrument. The wide head seemed like it would be punishing. Almost carelessly, she tossed the cock aside and sprawled back on the bed with her arms tucked comfortably behind her neck. “Well, let’s see what you can do with it,” she sniffed, and her stomach knotted pleasurably as she saw how much Swan lusted for her. “When we’re finished, we can tell Regina and Emma just what they’re missing.” Hooking her leg around Swan’s backside, she grabbed for the front of Swan’s turtleneck and forcefully yanked her down. With a little bit of hasty magic, the Queen stripped off Swan’s pants. Then the harness flew out of the bag and at her, tying securely around Swan’s hips.

 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Swan taunted wickedly, her voice husky with desire at the sight of The Queen so naked and satisfyingly supine. Leaning down, she maintained eye contact while her hands gripped The Queen’s knees and forced them wide apart, her nails digging into the tender flesh as she slowly kissed up the inside of her thighs, smearing nude lipstick and leaving behind goose bumps. “You’ve forgotten one very important detail.” Swan murmured sultrily against the sensitive apex of The Queen’s thigh. “I’m in control, and you have to be punished.” Swan grinned devilishly, her white teeth momentarily displayed before they sank into The Queen, delivering a bruising bite that she sucked on, intent to leave behind her first mark of many. Her nails scraped upwards to leave behind red streaks of where they’d been, until Swan released the Queen from her mouth with a wet pop of her lips. The scent of The Queen’s arousal was a heady musk that drew Swan closer. “Let me look at you.” She whispered seductively, thumbs already running softly along The Queen’s pussy lips, parting them to see the building slickness around her warm hole. Swan breathed her in like a drug, and flipped her suddenly onto her hands and knees with magic, with the sound of her strong hand landing sharply against The Queen's backside like a lightning strike. “Tell me you deserve this.” Swan throatily commanded, squeezing the sting out of her ass cheek just to deliver another smack against it.

 

The spanking made the Queen’s eyes water, yet she loved it: she rotated her hips for more, and waited for another hard smack to land on the perfect curve of her ass. But she had too much pride to give Swan the satisfaction of hearing her beg for her punishment. Even if all she stood to gain were deep bruises and a sore backside, she would resist Swan on principle. Instead of answering, she moved subtly so that Swan’s fingers glided over her tender sex, and she boldly gripped Swan’s wrist to force those fingers inside of her. 

 

The Queen stretched her spine, and lazily rode Swan’s hand, taking just what she wanted for as long as she could get away with it. 

 

The noise that came from the back of Swan’s throat was particularly guttural. The Queen felt deliciously warm and wet around her fingers, a sensation that she’d missed dearly, and for that reason alone she granted the impudence briefly. Going so far as to crook her fingers just so, in the way that evoked the most pleasure, only to snake her hand into The Queen’s hair at the base of her neck to pull roughly. 

 

With the Queen’s head tipped back, Swan leaned against her and slipped her fingers out of her slick cunt to push them into her mouth instead. The power struggle had been expected, and Swan knew they both got off on it. Which was why she chose that moment to tilt her hips back, allowing the thick head of the cock to push demandingly at The Queen’s slippery hole, and with one hard thrust of her hips, drove the incredibly thick length as deep as she could get it inside her. 

 

“You’re mine.” Swan husked, her hands falling to The Queen’s hips as she forced her back against herself, ensuring she took every solid inch. “You will always be mine.” She growled out, biting down on the Queen’s exposed shoulder as she pounded into her with an almost animalistic need.

 

The unexpected aggression made the Queen grunt and Swan’s cock entered her with relentless and long strokes. Her body felt impossibly tight, and she used magic so that Swan would have to experience it, too: when Swan stuffed her full, the sensation went straight to her core and the Queen clenched her pussy to prevent Swan from pulling out. “You want to fuck me this way? To treat me like your possession? Well, I want you to feel it.” She spat. “If I’m yours, you’d better make sure I remember it.” Her tone bordered on threatening, even if she was the one in the compromising position at the moment. Swan bucked against her powerfully, in a way that ached deliciously, and the Queen only encouraged it. “Put me in my place. Take what you want.”

 

Their bodies were sweating and glistening as they pumped together. Swan pistoned her cock in and out of the Queen, and the Queen reached down to spread her pussy lips for Swan and to rub herself. 

 

“You have no idea what I want,” Swan belatedly panted out, though she continued to move in tandem with The Queen. Their bedroom activities had always been vigorous and this was no different. Pressing her front to The Queen’s back, she slid down and their bodies molded to each other. Swan’s strong hands roamed over hips and ribs, upwards until she cupped The Queen’s breasts to squeeze and knead, her fingertips toying and pinching the nipples while she kissed and sucked at the nape of The Queen’s neck.

 

A low chuckle rose in the Queen’s throat, and she pulled away to glance down at Swan’s thick cock. “Why don’t we try this,” she husked, and turned onto her back. “So you can look at me.” Her radiant eyes seemed to lure Swan closer, and she draped her legs around Swan’s backside just as the cock pressed into her heat again. “Is this closer to what you want? It’s very domestic, isn’t it?” With rolling pelvic thrusts, she met the energetic rocking of Swan’s hips and she moaned approvingly. “Is this what our future holds? You fucking me in this bedroom like your little housewife? I can already picture you bringing home flowers whenever you want to get me into bed. Maybe you’ll even get me pregnant again.” She had to run her mouth, to ruffle Swan’s feathers even when she knew it was wiser to just be silent. “You’re much more mundane than you make yourself out to be,” she taunted. “You’re looking forward to playing happy little family here, aren’t you? It almost seems like you’re in love with me.” 

 

Swan bristled at the accusatory taunts, her mixed emotions showing ephemerally on her face before she could lock them behind a stolid mask. It felt particularly cruel to be faced with everything she wanted while being mocked for it by the woman her heart simultaneously craved and ached over. Her physical pleasure became offset by the internal pain and it resulted in a struggle between desire and darkness. The urge to confess her feelings burned the back of her throat and frothed on her tongue. _She’d laugh at you. Reject you. Find you pathetic. Use it against you. Leave you for someone else. She already did. Don’t say it._ The litany of whispers echoed her own fears until they became static in her mind. 

 

The Queen expected some crass remark from Swan, but when nothing came, she nestled her face into the crook of Swan’s neck and concentrated on the movement of their bodies. Each hard, deep thrust jostled the Queen and made her breasts bounce. She waited for a response, for anything that would confirm Swan’s love for her, but the long lasting silence left her with nothing but stomach-twisting regret. 

 

A strange tension filled the room, far less sexual than it should have been given their activities. Swan released a huff of breath and alternated from her strong thrusts to a slower, no less deeper, rolling of her hips. Impulsively, she captured The Queen’s lips again in an effort to connect, one hand snaking between their bodies so that her questing fingers could find The Queen’s slippery and swollen clit. The tips of Swan’s fingers were light, almost delicate in their gliding, and The Queen’s inner muscles twitched responsively.

 

The Queen ghosted her nails across Swan’s back and nuzzled into loose blonde hair. She nipped at an earlobe, and her warm breaths raised goose bumps over Swan’s neck. Sensually pitching her hips forward in time to meet Swan’s every downward rotation, the Queen latched onto her pulse point with her lips and sucked hard. Her mouth left behind a single purpling spot, and then she resumed fiercely kissing Swan. “Completely caught up in the moment?” she jeered. “I imagine you’re contemplating that I’m the best you ever had.”

 

“You talk too much.” Swan gruffly stated. Standing up, she pushed her hands into The Queen’s thighs to spread her legs obscenely wide in order to better pound into her sopping pussy with relentless vigor. “You taunt me as if your hot little cunt isn’t wet and throbbing with need for this, but thanks to you I can feel how much you love it.” Swan cast her gaze downwards so she could watch The Queen’s eager slick cunt stretch around the cock, and quirked an eyebrow challengingly. “Why don’t you take a good look, _your Majesty?_ ”

 

At Swan’s prompting, The Queen did take a gander, and a new spike of arousal struck inside of her, just below the navel. Both of them were fixated on the sight of her pussy positively straining to receive the formidable shaft, and the Queen squeezed her inner muscles repeatedly to send a wave of pleasurable feelings down into Swan’s body. Through her magic, each gripping pull at the cock made Swan’s throbbing little bundle of nerves react. “Enjoy it while it lasts. I might not be this willing to put out for you in the future.”

 

Swan kept her eyes on The Queen’s swollen and stretched cunt, despite how infuriating each little taunt became. Even as her hips picked up the pace, Swan understood that she was being toyed with, and reacted like a puppet on a string. “You say that now, but I know you’ve missed this.” _Missed me,_ her face conveyed, before she caught herself and smirked instead—a buffer to hide behind, much like the acerbic lashings The Queen chose as her own shield. 

 

Swan’s fingers trailed almost whimsically across The Queen’s inner thigh, gently scratching a path towards her glistening folds. With tender precision, the pad of her thumb lazily stroked and circled her swollen clit until it became as sensitive as her own. Her thumb blurred with the sudden fast, though feather light, rubbing she gave, and Swan watched unrestrained pleasure crack through the mask and take hold of The Queen. In response to such pleasant sensations, Swan’s own breaths became labored, and she began to take deeper, slower breaths in an effort to outlast The Queen.

 

The snare of pleasure fell over the Queen first, like a heavy net that only tightened as she moaned and thrashed like a true captive. “ _Fuck you,_ ” she spat viciously, and rolled her hips furiously to prolong the good and overpowering feeling. Her vulnerability in this moment made her especially dangerous, and her magic strengthened to bring Swan to body-shaking release. She shoved Swan off of her then, but refused to allow any relief, and only drew out the sensation until her lover suffered horribly. “Fuck you, _Emma Swan._ ” 

 

Ecstasy flowed through Swan’s veins like a drug that had been injected, her pulse sending it faster through her system until the euphoria completely took her over. _Except it didn’t fully._ The Queen’s words struck her first: a bare knuckle fist to the face that had her reeling. By the time she felt the high of her climax, she was stumbling backwards with a look of confusion. Brows knitted together and eyes narrowed, Swan’s pleasure lasted a split second more before the intensity shifted with The Queen’s volatile emotions. Pain exploded through her nerve endings until it crackled like electricity and her body went rigid as she shook, hands and teeth clenching as the muscles in her body strained while she dropped to her knees heavily. A garbled sounding growl echoed within her chest as her body jerked and spasmed in agony. 

 

With widening eyes, the Queen stared in disbelief at her own hands and reined in her deadly magic, although the damage to Swan had been done: she was still doubled over and gasping for breath. The Queen shrank away in the aftermath of her attack, and laughed richly until she ached and tears rolled down her cheeks. Her mouth twisted in a smile of full blown insanity, and she grabbed Swan by the face as if she meant to inflict more harm. And yet she broke down before she succeeded, and hiccuped out the quietest of sobs. 

 

“What…” Swan rasped, her lungs greedily sucking in air as she trembled, though whether from pain or rage was unclear. Forcing herself onto unsteady legs, she towered up to her full height with a thunderous snarl of, “The hell was _that_?” Expecting another round of whatever punishment The Queen fancied to give out, Swan squared her jaw and met her eyes.

 

“Stop me,” the Queen begged. “I feel. . . _completely out of control._ Please. Please stop me.” It would be unseemly to fall apart in front of Swan, but she was in the midst of an episode and vibrating all over because of it. She stroked Swan’s hair with loving affection, all with an awareness of how easily she could snap and hurt her again. 

 

Swan’s glare transformed into a frown with a tilt of her head. Confrontation, violence, verbal knifes, volatile rages—she could handle all of it because she’d dealt with it from The Queen. This however, was entirely different, and Swan watched on curiously, albeit with a heavy heart. Swallowing back the pain and anger that had threatened to take hold, she pulled The Queen flush against her and pressed their foreheads together. With a flick of her hand, suddenly they were wearing clothes. 

 

The next second they were outside under the stars, sitting on a porch swing, with a fire burning brightly from a pit by the side of the lawn. Wordlessly, Swan cradled The Queen into her, soothingly running her palm in broad circles across the expanse of her back as they swung gently. Sometimes there weren’t any words to give to ease a troubled mind, but there would always be actions. As the stars above twinkled and the wood sparked, Swan kissed the top of The Queen’s head and laced their fingers together.

 

The Queen expected to find herself restrained—not canoodling below the spangled night sky. She gave Swan a cross and perplexed frown, looking much like a confused child who was far too out of her depth. Sitting stiffly as Swan’s palm rubbed warmly over her tightly wound muscles, the Queen brooded in the silence until the stress went out of her. “Selena,” she finally whispered, without preamble or explanation. “You asked me to think of a name. She was a singer in this land, and I used to listen to her music. Her songs remind me of being young and in love for the first time in the place where I grew up. The name is similar to my sister’s… which isn’t necessarily a point in its favor. But it… also means _the moon,_ ” she thickly exhaled. Wistfully, she cast her eyes over the landscape, and teared up as she meaningfully warbled, “The only _light_ in this Darkness I feel.” 

 

Swan kept her eyes on the stars as she listened, and inhaled the chilled air until it numbed her. It gave her something else to focus on other than the ache of her heart. In all the lands, in every realm, those sparkling lights billions of miles away held expectations of wishes being granted. Bile rose up in Swan’s gullet and she swallowed it back bitterly. She resented them, and all that they falsely promised her. For a long moment all she felt was emptiness—and in the hollow space, the darkness settled. “Selena.” She husked quietly, feeling the name on her tongue as she breathed it into existence. A representation and lasting reminder of how to the Queen, Swan would be nothing more than a terrible abyss. “Now she has a name.” Swan lilted, silently cursing herself as she realized she was wishing once again on stars—this time so that her daughter would never think of her as part of the Darkness, and only as someone who shined with unfaltering love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'd love to hear your thoughts if you feel like leaving a comment, and we appreciate kudos! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for awkward sexual situations. 
> 
> Spoilers for The Shape of Water.

Over on the other side of town, Emma shined a small flashlight into Regina’s eyes to check her pupils for signs of a concussion. In her distraction, Regina had tripped and fallen over a pair of shoes that Emma carelessly left on the floor. She banged her head on the coffee table, and had done nothing but lecture Emma for the last ten minutes because of it. 

 

Now sufficiently settled, Regina allowed Emma to tend to her scrapes and minor injuries with magic, but when Emma tried to touch her forehead, she evaded and moved away. “You are not _that_ skilled with your abilities, and I’d rather not have permanent brain damage,” she spat. “Only one of us is allowed to be that intellectually impaired.” 

 

Not far away, the baby slept soundly in her cradle underneath a magical mobile that Regina had created from random spinning items: the remote for the TV, Emma’s car keys, her sheriff badge, a packet of gum, and a shiny tube of Regina’s lipstick – along with several other items from her purse. 

 

“Well I see the smack didn’t dislodge your sarcasm, so at least there’s that,” Emma huffed irritably, frowning at the red welt that had formed, though it wasn’t as prominent as the vein next to it that signaled another round of acerbic words were likely being loaded to the back of Regina’s tongue so she could spit them like bullets.

 

Emma walked off towards the kitchen to put the flashlight back in the drawer and snagged a frozen steak from the freezer on her way back. “Here, if you won’t let me heal you, then do it the old fashioned way.” She advised, slapping the cold meat onto Regina’s lap childishly. Did it help the situation to rile Regina up? Not in the slightest, but it sure as hell felt good knowing she couldn’t scream at her since the kid was sleeping. “Advil’s in the cupboard. Help yourself.”

 

Regina bristled over the forms of care taking that Emma provided, and glared down her nose at the cold meat in her lap. She unceremoniously picked it up, and angrily pressed it against her forehead. “You couldn’t have grabbed me two tablets while you were already up?” she snapped. Grunting in frustration, she left the couch and stalked into the adjoining kitchen to search the cupboards for the Advil. “You are the most disorganized person I have ever met,” she announced as she began taking bottles down from the shelves. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have stumbled over your boots, if you hadn’t been flailing over changing the baby’s diaper. You need to learn some proper technique if you don’t want to get messy. Although you don’t seem to mind messes at all. Just look at this cupboard. How am I supposed to find anything in here?” 

 

Emma sighed heavily as she rocked herself jerkily forward, then stomped as quietly as she could manage back into the kitchen. “Funny, I spent quite a few years cleaning up a lot of _your_ messes.” She retorted, albeit with an eye-roll that conveyed the lack of bite to the remark. Moving around the island in the kitchen, she let her hip collide with Regina and bumped her out of the way to reach past her. “I forget you’re shorter than Henry now. I guess I should quit putting the medicine on the top shelf since it’s only out of your reach.” Emma felt herself smirk before she could think to stop it, and handed off the bottle with a lazy shrug. “Do you want me to get you a glass of water too, or are you able to get it yourself without a ladder?” Really, Emma knew being asinine would do her no favors, but when Regina got into one of her moods it could be endless entertainment, providing she didn’t decide to incinerate anyone. “So, since you’re obviously staying the night again, do you want to watch a movie or something?” Emma asked, wetting her lips nervously.

 

Regina grudgingly popped the top off the bottle to dump two Advil into her palm. “Why would I be staying the night?” she asked. “You think a little concussion is going to get me down? I might be smaller than you, Emma, but make no mistake: I am mighty.” Flicking her eyelashes haughtily, and waving a hand at Emma, she went to pour herself a tall glass of tap water. “You have a hidden motive: you want me to stay so I’ll take care of the baby. I already promised Swan I would watch her myself. But if I agree, and I’m _not_ saying I am, which film did you have in mind?” Her subtle smirk gave away the playfulness of this exchange for her. 

 

“Hey, I can look after her,” Emma said a little too fast, but filled with conviction. “I just figured you’d want to stay since you kicked your heels off an hour ago and have half the contents of your bag floating around to keep the kid entertained.” She mumbled, stuffing her hands into the front pockets of her jeans in self comfort, bracing just in case Regina decided she did want to leave. “We could rent a movie online. I hear The Shape Of Water is supposed to be good.” Emma shrugged, leaning her hip against the counter as she watched Regina gulp over the painkillers. “We can browse the newest releases, and see what jumps out at us. Maybe order some take-out, since I’ve seen you look at the contents of my fridge with distaste _at least_ three times now.”

 

“There’s nothing in there but condiments, lots of mold and a light bulb,” Regina sniffed airily, and set her glass down on the countertop. Rather than respond directly to the remarks about spending the night, Regina simply returned to her spot on the couch in the living room and curled up under the soft cashmere blanket she gave Emma as a housewarming gift not too long ago. “I suppose we could watch a movie and order in,” she finally conceded, as if she had given it much deliberation. “You can pick the movie, but I choose the take-out. Why don’t we order from Mushu’s? I’m in the mood for vegetable lo mein.” 

 

“Mushu’s sounds good. Get me the Szechuan spicy garlic chicken, with fried rice, and a side of crispy wontons. I’ll set up the movie while you phone it in,” Emma casually stated, quietly stepping past the snoozing baby with a lingering look at the chubby little face that caused her to smile before she caught herself. Carefully, she picked her laptop off the table and began to connect it to the large flat screen with ease.

 

Regina called Mushu’s Palace to place their orders, all while pressing Emma’s defrosting steak against the sore spot on the side of her head. She could have easily healed herself now that the initial shock had passed, or just conjured up a proper ice pack, but some small part of her began to appreciate Emma’s efforts, however incompetent. 

 

Comfortably reclining against a pillow, Regina settled in for the duration of the movie, and yet mysteriously found herself curled into Emma as soon as she joined her on the couch. It made matters all the more awkward when mere minutes into the film, the lead character began to rub herself erotically between the thighs. Regina remained perfectly still and outwardly unfazed by the nudity, despite experiencing some inner uneasiness over viewing the scene with Emma. Her eyes strayed from the screen, and she tried to gauge Emma’s reaction without directly looking at her. 

 

Silence hung heavy between them as Emma sat rigidly in disbelief. Imperceptibly, she squinted at the screen and tried her damnedest not to glance at Regina. What the fuck kind of film was this? She’d expected something supernatural—not full frontal masturbation. Before she could contemplate how to deal with it, the character’s day started again, and just like before there she was in the tub furiously fingering herself. “Popcorn,” Emma suddenly blurted, jolting as if she’d received a shock from a live wire, and not an intense wave of embarrassment for subjecting them to the most awkward moment of their night so far. “I’ll get us some.” She croaked. Her throat had gone suddenly dry and her palms felt suspiciously sweaty as she got to her feet to robotically and stiffly walk back to the kitchen. She returned a moment later, empty handed, and sank back down next to Regina with a mumbled, “Forgot I don’t have any.”

 

“Seems like you also forgot you have magic. What is the problem, Emma? Embarrassed by the movie you chose?” Regina snorted derisively and nodded towards the screen, where the actress from the bathtub appeared to be interacting with a fish. 

 

“No!” Emma hurriedly spat, looking every bit as flustered as someone who’d been caught with their hand down their pants.

 

The doorbell rang to announce their food had arrived, and Regina rolled her eyes as she slid off the couch to grab their take-out and pay the deliveryman. 

 

“This whole film is a metaphor,” Regina explained when she returned. She emptied the brown paper bag and arranged their cartons of Chinese food on top of Emma’s coffee table. 

 

“I know it’s a metaphor,” Emma sourly insisted, and snatched up her carton of wontons. The truth was maybe she didn’t, but the smug look on Regina’s face meant she’d deny it on principle.

 

“Anyway, it’s not like I’m scandalized by your selection,” Regina added, and violently stuck her chopsticks into her vegetable lo mein. “I’m not a prude.” 

 

Regina’s remarks opened up an opportunity, and Emma grabbed at it with both hands like a greedy child gleefully taking the last cookie from the jar. “Yeah I know you’re not,” she retorted with a sly smirk. “I remember the outfits you cursed Ruby into wearing. If her skirts were any shorter she’d have been better off wearing a napkin.”

 

“Speaking of napkins, wipe your face,” Regina seamlessly replied, and gestured at Emma’s chin and lips. “Our baby is neater than you, and she spits up on herself.” She peered over at the cradle where their daughter slept soundlessly, who was not quite theirs but still somehow part of them. 

 

“She’s not—” Emma sighed, and glanced towards the snoozing little bundle fondly. An uncomfortable warmth spread through her, almost like happiness, quickly followed by a pang in her chest that she chalked up to heartburn, despite the fact she’d only eaten two fried wontons. Still, she plucked a napkin up and surreptitiously dabbed at her mouth, then glowered at Regina when it came back clean.

 

Regina pointedly ignored Emma and did her best to look innocent, even if she smirked inconspicuously. As she gathered up noodles and ate, she began to resent just how at home she felt on the couch beside Emma. “Just so you know, my curse didn’t have anything to do with anyone’s fashion mistakes. I mean, all you had to do was look at your mother and her awful cardigans to realize that.” 

 

“I call bullshit,” Emma sneered, crunching obnoxiously as she ate a third wonton. “You wanted everyone to be miserable, so you stuffed them into outfits you knew they’d hate, or maybe, you put some people into clothes you knew _you’d_ like.” She casually reached for her chicken and rice, but she was on high alert in case Regina slapped her for making that cocky remark. “You did frequent the diner an awful lot for someone who can cook so damn well.” Emma stuck her fork into her carton and swirled it around thoughtfully. “I wonder if Snow continues to wear the cardigans to spite you.”

 

“Snow’s wardrobe _is_ a punishment to all sighted individuals,” Regina huffed out, and then eyed Emma’s wontons covetously before she decided to snatch one. Squinting in happiness, she munched on the fried snack and smiled. “Since you insist on continuously bringing Ruby up, I will say that I find her attractive, and I might have appreciated her short skirts every morning at breakfast, but that’s as far as my involvement goes with her little red pleather uniforms. And before you say anything else, I’ve seen you check out her ass a number of times, so I suggest you continue stuffing your face instead of trying to shame me for my actions.” 

 

Emma glared at Regina for her thievery, and all but choked on her meal when she admitted attraction to Ruby in her scantily clad outfits. In truth, Emma had _appreciated_ them too, but she’d never thought Regina would just flippantly state that after the fuss of finding their other selves together. It didn’t help that her own ogling came back to bite her, and she sank further into the couch in an effort to let it swallow her whole. 

 

Just as Emma tried to distract herself with the movie, Regina clicked hit a button on the remote to turn the television off. She seemed like she might be on the verge of starting a fight, or else about to broach the subject that neither of them wanted to touch, but the baby awakened with a quiet howl that rose in pitch until Regina leapt to her feet and picked the little one up. 

 

For a passing moment, the baby stared up at Regina with big dreamy eyes and then began to blubber again, pouting her bottom lip out tremulously as she wailed. 

 

In desperation to end the crying, Regina frantically checked the baby’s diaper and offered a bottle of milk, but her attempts to soothe were met with extreme dissatisfaction. Regina was too proud to admit that she hadn’t a clue what to do, and she whirled fiercely in Emma’s direction as she pointed an accusatory finger. “What did you do with that yellow blanket the Queen left for her?” she snapped. “It’s not here, and it comforts her.” 

 

Emma slapped her take-out onto the table and stood up with a sigh. “You know, I’ve never met anyone who can go from sass to ass so fast in my life. It’s over here.” She waved her hand and wandered off to the kitchen where the yellow blanket had been tucked safely next to the window. “After you fed her earlier and insisted on burping her yourself, I set it aside. Now calm down, and give me the kid before your mood upsets her.” 

 

Not waiting due to the strong chance of an argument, Emma gently lifted the unhappy baby from Regina’s arms and then cradled her with the blanket. “Shhh, shhh, shhh,” Emma softly intoned, her voice light as she spoke to the little one. “Hey don’t cry. It’s okay. You’re okay.” She rocked her arms and settled back on the sofa, watching the chubby little face unscrunch to gurgle pleasantly. “Yeah see? You were napping. That’s all, and we’re still here.”

 

Regina paused with her hands on her hips and brooded over Emma’s apparent finesse with the baby. She moved from her defensive pose, and clutched loosely at her own elbows in an effort to soothe herself. “Did you ever think about having another child?” she asked offhandedly, and perched beside Emma to gaze down at the baby, who was equal parts Swan and Mills: her complexion, face and hair were all Regina, while her eyes and nose belonged to Emma’s side.

 

“I uh…” _Where the hell had that come from?_ Emma gaped at Regina as her mouth moved without forming words. “Before Henry showed up and brought me here? No. Not when I knew I’d given up the chance I already had.” 

 

“At least some good came out of our mistakes,” Regina meditatively considered, and appeared almost mournful as she hung her head. “Not that our relationship is a mistake. I mean, _their relationship._ ” 

 

“Yeah, theirs. . . ” Emma reiterated dumbly, trying to gauge what Regina was thinking and feeling to have made such a slip. 

 

“When I said _mistakes,_ I was talking about the evil acts I committed, and any other actions you might regret,” Regina hastily clarified, and smoothed her hand over the bright yellow baby blanket that was the same color as Emma’s bug. “Maybe the Queen and Swan will raise their daughter right. I hope they don’t repeat what either of us did with Henry. In spite of all we’ve done, we _do_ make beautiful children.”

 

Cocking her head, Emma looked from Regina to the tiny face with impossibly cute cheeks, and her expression softened. “We do, don’t we?” she asked. “I doubt the Queen will make the same mistakes you did. She remembers what it was like, and _Swan_ …” Emma swallowed thickly, and suddenly turned to hand the now calm newborn back to Regina. “Well, she won’t be going anywhere.”

 

“I’m thirsty,” Emma supplied as she got up, avoiding Regina’s gaze. “Do you want a drink? Coffee, wine, soda?”

 

Regina reacted as if Emma’s fast retreat had affected her as much as total abandonment. She clutched the baby against her chest and lightly ran her fingers over their daughter’s tuft of black hair. Swan might not be going anywhere, but Emma certainly fled quick enough instead of staying when she was required to face difficult emotions. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Regina forlornly replied, and then before she could censor herself, she muttered something else under her breath about running away. 

 

Emma’s feet faltered in their tracks and she froze momentarily from the hushed words that stuck into her like shrapnel. Tilting her head, Emma pivoted to stare back at Regina, a look of disbelief settling across her face—a dark shadow cast by cloudy emotions. “You think I’m running away because I asked if you wanted a drink? You ever stop to think maybe I need a minute to comprehend all the stuff you’re asking, and this was me just processing it?” She strutted back over to Regina and stopped just short of her, thumbs hooking into her front pockets as she met her gaze unflinchingly. “What do you want me to say, Regina? Last night you wanted to split Swan and the Queen up, and couldn’t face the fact they were on a date, and tonight you’re wistfully saying we make adorable kids and asking if I ever wanted to have more. Why do you care if I ever considered it or not, huh?”

 

“Why are you overreacting to the snide remarks I made under my breath?” Regina sharply countered, and glared up at Emma with undisguised rage, all while patting the baby on the back. Her forehead tensed in aggravation, but she tried to let her temper cool. “I raised Henry and you gave birth to him, and I’m now holding a child who is biologically ours. I just wanted to know if you had ever thought about having more children, because Swan certainly seems thrilled to be a mother again. It doesn’t have _anything_ to do with you. I’m merely trying to understand the psyche of your dangerous counterpart.” She pushed her chest out as she shrugged, as if daring Emma to doubt her. “Maybe a little part of me was also curious if you had ever thought about it, because at times you seem almost awkward with the baby, and it’s not just due to your usual clumsiness—”

 

“Wait a minute, _I’m_ the one overreacting?” Emma snorted derisively, noting the manic anger in Regina’s eyes that reminded her of all the fights they’d first had when she’d arrived in Storybrooke all those years ago. “Look at you.” She remarked, waving her hand to Regina’s wild demeanor. 

 

With gentle hands, Emma took the gurgling baby back, and for a second the rest of Regina’s words failed to register as Emma gazed down at the cheerful bundle that blinked back at her. Narrowing her eyes, Emma took a step back and shook her head as she cradled the newborn against her protectively. “So what if I’m awkward? It’s none of your damn business why I’m like this. Besides, the Queen seems pretty happy to be a parent again too, but I’m not picking you apart to find out why.” On edge for reasons she didn’t want to understand, Emma took a page out of Regina’s book and fanned the flames with a well placed spark of aggression. “Why don’t you go ask your other self what she’s feeling, because mine isn’t the only dangerous one, is she, your _majesty_?” 

 

“I don’t need to ask,” Regina soberly replied, and smoothed her hands over her thighs as she backed down from the confrontation with Emma. “I could use a potion to find out _exactly_ what she’s feeling. I have all of the ingredients, but I’m reluctant to subject her to that. It would be so much easier if she told us what was going on in her head, but there are so many things that are more likely to occur than that.” 

 

Warily, Emma took in the transformation of Regina—the subtle way she recoiled into herself after blazing a trail of anger. 

 

Emma’s own posture felt stiff from the tension it all caused, and she forced herself to unclench her jaw. Whatever was going on with Regina was directly linked to their other selves being here with their kid. “No potions. No meddling.” Emma bit out, then sighed, sagging from the stress that weighed her down. She sidestepped Regina to sit back on the couch and broke the temporary silence with one word. “Henry.” She didn’t turn to look at Regina, but she sensed her staring all the same. “The awkwardness you see with the kid. It’s from when I think of him as a baby.”

 

Regina did a double-take, as if that had not at all been the explanation she expected. “Oh,” she frowned, and put her hands on her hips as she processed the revelation. “I never stopped to consider that your past could have been affecting you. I foolishly just assumed it had something to do with me. After all, I’m probably the last person you ever imagined having another child with—“ 

 

“You’d think,” Emma muttered under her breath, then raised her chin to appear more collected than she felt. Regina’s fluctuating emotions kept her own shifting and she couldn’t bring herself to explain why.

 

Still hovering uncertainly, Regina stared down at their perfect baby, and wondered just how much this child might in some way come to represent another missed chance for them both. “You might have regrets about what happened with Henry,” she sighed. “But you’re in his life now, Emma.” 

 

If there were anymore elephants in the room, nobody would be able to move. At least for now, Emma was choosing to address some of hers instead of pretending they didn’t exist. “It’s not just Henry,” Emma pressed her palm to her forehead and sighed. “It’s also Swan. I remember exactly what being the Dark One was like, Regina. I wasn’t soulless and pure evil. Everything I felt was intensified, including pain, and this is another kid she lost time with.” Sick of seeing Regina awkwardly standing there, Emma reached out to tug her sleeve. “Would you just sit down? We still have half a movie to watch.” 

 

Regina stumbled forward and reluctantly resumed sitting beside Emma, but she hunched her shoulders in uncharacteristic defeat, and rubbed her hands together out of habit. “It might not look like love to you, but the Queen cares deeply for Swan, and there must be much more to the story of why the Queen never told Swan about the pregnancy,” she reasoned. “I’m sure that doesn’t console you. On some level it must hurt—even though you and Swan are different people. You already made it clear that you don’t want me to meddle, but I could just ask the Queen to tell me what happened. Although it’s a long shot, I know what to say to get under her skin.” 

 

“I spent most of the day with the Queen,” Emma announced softly. “I think I have some idea of what happened, and I know how she really feels.” She also didn’t need to spend time around Swan to understand that her complex range of emotions hinged on the fact that she was in love; she already knew first hand how that felt as the Dark One, and she was intent to keep it to herself. No sense in opening old wounds. Emma slid her gaze towards Regina and clicked a button on her remote to play the movie. “If you have to get under the Queen’s skin to get answers, then you’re meddling.” She stated simply, yet the way she looked sharply at Regina said loud and clear that she wasn’t about to attempt to change her mind.

 

The truth was, despite how adamantly she maintained that she and Swan were different people, all of it did hurt. In some ways it felt more devastating than being knocked up and left in jail, because at least then she _knew_ she was pregnant. Regina was the one person she truly believed in besides Henry, and to know that another version of Regina had kept her from the kid, for whatever reason? That hurt like hell. Because it went deeper than that. 

 

Emma couldn’t allow herself to linger on it as she glanced at Regina. They weren’t the same people as their counterparts: she had to believe it. She had to believe it because if she didn’t, it meant all the trust they’d built and the connection they shared wasn’t nearly as special or unique as she thought. “Whatever happened in the wishverse will reveal itself in one way or another. The truth has a tendency to get out. You and I both know that.”

 

“We do?” Regina asked somewhat dubiously, and drew a small, stoppered vial out of her pocket. “No offense, Emma, but there are some secrets I’d sooner take to the grave than share with you and the rest of our family.” She lifted the tiny bottle to eye level and peered in at the changing colors, which flashed from an unstable red to a pulsating purple. “We’ve grown closer over the years, and I feel more comfortable with you than anyone, but there are horrors I wouldn’t even confide in you, let alone your parents. I just hope that the Queen truly meant what she said earlier during our therapy session, but I sense that she’s reverted. I fear that she could become a force of destruction if we aren’t proactive. She could hurt your mother again, or any of us. She could hurt you, or Swan, even more than she already has—“

 

“What the hell is that?” Emma snapped at the sight of the vial, flinching back as if half expecting the contents to be thrown on her. The conviction in Regina’s voice troubled her more than she let on and instinctively she twisted to the side to shield the baby cradled against her. “Whatever that is, it isn’t the answer.” She fiercely hissed, scowling at Regina. “If you think using it is going to help, then you’re acting as deranged as your other half. You think I don’t know you did some seriously messed up things when you were The Evil Queen? I’ve been to the Enchanted Forest. I’ve been back in time and met you. I’m fully aware of what you’re capable of, and that’s why I won’t sit back and let you preemptively destroy all the work you’ve done to redeem yourself just because of fear. If you do this, whatever it is, then _you’re_ reverting to who you were—not maintaining who you are.”

 

“First of all, this is just something I’ve held onto in case I encountered the Queen again,” Regina soothingly explained, and shook the vial until the liquid bubbled iridescently in every color of the rainbow. “It’s not _hazardous._ I have no plans of harming the Queen if that’s the wild conclusion you’ve reached. But in the event that the Queen does prove volatile, this potion might be our only form of self-defense.” To ease Emma’s mind, Regina slipped the potion out of sight and frowned at how the baby’s facial expression eerily reminded her of Dark Swan when in the middle of brooding. “It’s what I was speaking about earlier,” Regina continued, although she was still wholly focused on the baby. “If nothing else, I can use this to capture the Queen’s memories and borrow them, so to speak. It’s not an easy spell to brew, so I doubt she’ll ever suspect what I’ve done. Granted, it would be a violation of the Queen’s privacy, which is why I’ll only use it if she destroys the peace first.” As an after thought, she placed the potion on Emma’s coffee table. “Why don’t you hold onto it for safekeeping?” she asked. 

 

Emma snatched the vial as soon as Regina offered it for no other reason than to keep it from her. “Considering you just told me there are secrets you’d never want people to know, then you should respect the Queen’s privacy and at least give her the same courtesy. You can’t force someone to open up, and if you try, all you’ll do is make an already tense situation completely insufferable.” She stood up to cautiously place the baby back into her basket beside her on the couch. “But you already know that.” She said dryly, settling back into the couch with a lingering look at their cold take-out. “You’re not trying to convince me this is right, because you know you can’t. You’re trying to convince yourself, and that’s not really possible when you have someone to call you out on your hypocrisy.” Absently, she reached for the side of the Moses basket and rocked it gently for the little one. “So if it’s alright with you, I’d like to watch the rest of the movie and pretend for once that we’re just a normal _couple_ —” Her eyes widened and she choked on her own saliva as she hurriedly added, “of friends.”

 

Regina startled at that, and swung her head back in the direction of the screen just in time to watch the protagonist flood an entire bathroom with water. 

 

Then Regina delicately shifted, and tugged Emma’s cashmere throw blanket over her lap as she simultaneously leaned across the couch. She and Emma rarely ever embraced, and whenever they shared personal space, they both radiated a charged energy—but she boldly dropped her head onto Emma’s shoulder and experimented with this newfound closeness between them. “You’re not just a friend, Emma,” she sighed out, with eyes so full of emotion. “You’re . . . _well,_ you’re my best friend.” Her weak finish left her feeling sick and dissatisfied, but she slipped an arm around Emma’s waist and attempted to speak through her actions alone. 

 

Emma tensed where she sat, bracing for words that never came, and remained just as rigid once Regina comfortably slotted against her in a way that felt entirely too familiar, considering they’d never once done it before. The air in her lungs froze and she swallowed thickly, trying her damnedest to ignore the way her pulse sped up and left her almost dizzy from the contact. “Yeah.” Emma stated thickly, her right hand shifting beneath the blanket to settle tentatively on Regina’s knee. “You’re mine too.” In an effort to relax, she forced herself to lean back and though she pointedly stared at the TV to focus on the movie, all she could smell was Regina’s hair, and the unique scent of her skin. Skin that she hadn’t been this close to except when they had fought each other, and then again when they fought to save one another.

 

“Regina, do—” 

 

The words lodged themselves in Emma’s throat, only for her to sputter out, “Did she just fuck a fish?”

 

Regina’s face reflected just how much she expected them to be having a different conversation, but she glanced at the film and nodded in confirmation. “It seems she did,” she sighed, sounding deeply disappointed and unable to conceal it. “At least she found someone who understands her, and wants to be with her. This story is almost like The Little Mermaid in reverse.” Her commentary seemed lost on Emma, who was all too riveted by the scene. 

 

Regina became distracted by the baby, and reached over to gently grasp one of her little pudgy legs. The infant’s attention was wholly fixed on Regina, and she cooed down at the little one, quite unaware of how she had draped herself over Emma in the process of lunging forward.

 

“Yeah, sure, but he’s still a fish . . . _thing._ ” Emma muttered, caught between horror and surprise over how much was shown. Out of all the movies she could have picked, Emma selected a weird and mildly pornographic one to watch with Regina. Uncomfortable, Emma cleared her throat and wondered why, in all the reviews she’d seen praising the movie, not one had given a warning of how awkward this could be to watch with someone else.

 

Tearing her eyes away from the screen, Emma became uncomfortable for entirely different reasons. In this position, Regina’s top fell partially open because she never seemed to button her blouses all the way. 

 

From her vantage point, Emma had a spectacular view of the lacy bra that barely concealed Regina’s full breasts. 

 

Consciously, Emma blamed the sudden warmth that radiated across her lap on the fact that Regina was lying across it—and not at all on herself, or how she couldn’t look away.

 

“Don’t you just want to squeeze one of these?” Regina asked with a gleeful scrunch of her nose, referring to the baby’s chunky little legs, rather than to what Emma immediately assumed she was referring. 

 

Rumbling playfully, Regina pretended to bite the baby’s tiny feet. The baby squealed laughter—a gurgling giggle that Regina had never heard before. Regina kissed the child’s tiny toes, beaming in delight at the joy she inspired. She had not even noticed that one of her breasts had slipped free from her bra, or that her dusky red nipple was very much on display. 

 

Against all rational thought, and every warning her mind whispered, Emma continued to stare. A shameful heat scalded up her neck and left her cheeks a ruddy shade of beetroot while the warmth between her thighs intensified unbearably. She could either tell Regina, which would ultimately leave her feeling humiliated, or so could say nothing and let Regina assume she was a pervert. Another idea occurred to her and she cleared her throat to announce casually, “Why don’t you play with the kid while I go—” _play with myself._ “To the bathroom.” Before Regina had the chance to question her, Emma wormed her way off the couch and vanished upstairs.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Emma groaned at her reflection, hurriedly turning the cold tap on to splash her face in the hopes of cooling off her libido.

 

As Regina sat upright, she noticed what had caused Emma to dash suddenly away. She carefully righted her bra, and then buttoned her blouse all the way up to the neck as her face flushed in embarrassment. Scooping the baby into her arms, she went upstairs to knock on the bathroom door—although all she heard from within were the sounds of running water and what she thought was Emma hyperventilating.

 

When Emma failed to open the door, Regina wandered fretfully into the bedroom. She used her strongest magic to create a crib with lavender bedding, and a soft cuddling toy that she tucked in beside the baby. 

 

As soon as the little one nodded off, Regina sank down on Emma’s mattress, and began undressing for the night, until she sat in nothing but her panties. She frantically glanced around as she realized Emma must have carried off that shirt she had borrowed the previous night. 

 

Behind the closed bathroom door, Emma pressed a wet towel to her face and sucked in a deep breath as she eyed herself in the mirror. “Stop acting like a teenager and go out there and face her,” she sighed in aggravation, bouncing on her heels to rid herself of the excess anxiety that buzzed through her limbs. Straightening up, she nodded to herself and strode out of the bathroom only to halt in her tracks at the sight of Regina practically naked and sitting on her bed.

 

A choked noise stuck in her throat. Emma heard it croak and die belatedly, as her jaw went completely slack and she grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. “Uh…” Emma shook herself from her paralyzed state and hurriedly looked towards the wardrobe as her mind pieced it all together. She remembered that she’d tucked the shirt Regina had worn under her pillow instead of into the laundry basket. “Pajamas, right.” Emma’s voice sounded strained as she marched towards her wardrobe and flung it wide open. She snagged the first shirt her hand landed on, and robotically offered it to Regina. Her eyes were dark and wildly looking anywhere but down.

 

Regina tightened her fingers around the fabric and lowered her gaze to the Queen decal on the front of the shirt. “I didn’t know you were such a fan of classic rock,” she muttered, as if nothing was amiss between them and she always sat on Emma’s bed in a state of undress. Almost carelessly, she tossed the t-shirt aside and dared to reach out to Emma. “Look at me,” she demanded, with a touch of accusation in her voice. “You already looked, didn’t you? I just heard you in the bathroom, and I immediately knew what you had seen.”

 

Emma shamefully hung her head, and the tip of her tongue nervously wet her lips as Regina called her out—then dared to follow through with the kind of power move that left Emma simultaneously speechless and guiltily aroused.

 

In a bold and stomach-twisting maneuver that left Regina shaky, she stood up and pushed her thong down over her thighs. The strip of fabric fell to the floor, and she sank back onto the bed while her heart thumped faster in panic. “When I’m at home by myself, I don’t wear anything to bed. Last night when we found out about the baby, I wasn’t reading,” she huffed out in sudden confession. “You don’t have to feel awkward about accidentally seeing me now.” She pulled Emma’s t-shirt on, and then yanked down the covers to get beneath them. 

 

Stunned by the flippant harshness in Regina’s voice, Emma couldn’t find any words to say as she mindlessly rid herself of her jeans and tugged off her shirt to leave herself in just a tank top and panties. Absently, she remembered to undo her bra and pulled it off without lifting her shirt. In the silence of the room she could hear her own stuttered breaths, and once she flipped the light off she relaxed momentarily in the darkness before she slipped into bed rigidly. 

 

The silence stretched on, and Emma’s mind raced as she processed everything that Regina had said. Though all she could see in her mind was the image of Regina standing there naked with such a fuck you attitude that Emma’s brain short-circuited. Maybe she had hyperventilated so hard in the bathroom that she passed out and bashed her head against the sink, and this was all a terrible dream. _Except she wasn’t that lucky._ Finally Emma plucked up the courage to ask the one question that kept repeating itself in her mind. “So what were you doing?” she whispered into the shadows, so low she barely heard herself.

 

Regina sucked hard on the inside of her lip, which in turn pushed it outward. She rolled onto her side and shoved a pillow under her head. “Would you like a demonstration?” she drawled sarcastically, unable to stop herself in light of Emma’s dense question. To her displeasure, her own remarks set off ideas in her mind much like firecrackers — and she was overwhelmed by bright and bold visions of masturbating in front of Emma. It made her hold her breath, until her lungs gave in and she exhaled out a long huff that sent her hair flying in front of her face. 

 

Emma’s tongue danced behind her teeth as she fought to control herself. _If we don’t touch, then nothing between us has to change,_ she tried to reason privately. Yet something had changed. She’d just seen Regina in all her glory, and she couldn’t unsee her. The image had seared itself into her brain, and even if she wanted to forget it, which she didn’t, it wouldn’t change the fact that it had happened. Aroused and conflicted, Emma chewed on her lower lip and dared to glance at Regina in the dark. If she answered with her heart, it would be a mistake, but if she said nothing at all then she would regret it more. “Yes.” She whispered, shocked that the word had been breathed to life.

 

With deep furrows of surprise creasing her forehead, Regina side-eyed Emma in the enveloping darkness. She had the urge to laugh richly, but instead she took Emma’s hand and guided it to her outer thigh. “So you know that I _actually_ followed through,” she whispered. 

 

In awe of her own reckless actions, Regina raised Emma’s t-shirt just enough to position her fingertips over the delicate and smooth lips of her pussy. Her index finger curled inward and she played with the silken liquid that came from her entrance. Husky moans rose from her mouth, and she rubbed her clit until her vagina could take two fingers comfortably. 

 

Emma’s hand trembled against Regina’s thigh and she gasped when she felt Regina’s arm move. As Regina’s first raspy moan made its way to her ears, Emma pulled her hand back with a stuttered, shaky breath. Oh god, what had she done? She never thought Regina would actually go through with it, despite her hopes and fantasies. Now here she was in bed with her best friend, listening to her masturbate, and it turned Emma on beyond belief. All of the emotions and energy that Emma spent years suppressing began to float to the surface, carried by lust, and they collided with her own needs. If this night was all she got with Regina, before the harsh realization of how she ruined their friendship set in, then Emma wanted to remember it for the rest of her days.

 

The soft sounds of Regina stoked a fire within Emma that demanded attention, and before she could think to stop herself, she parted her own legs and pressed her left knee into Regina’s. She slid her hands into her own panties and exhaled softly as she skimmed through the copious amounts of wetness that already soaked her folds. Terrified and excited all at once, Emma began to circle her fingertips around her clit, making her breath short and her foot twitch.

 

“Sometimes I spend hours doing this,” Regina audaciously confided, and pumped two slick fingers into her small pussy. 

 

 _What did she think about in those hours?_ The question died on the end of Emma’s tongue before it was spoken but she considered all of the possibilities. A quiet whimper escaped her as she thought about Regina in her own bed enjoying herself intimately. The most absurd notion hit her by surprise, and she wondered if any other women did this with their friends. Emma knew she was ridiculous, yet she clung to the delusion for all it was worth as she listened to the soft wet clicks of Regina’s arousal.

 

The self-caressing took the edge off for Regina, even if being in close proximity to Emma seemed absolutely ruinous to the dynamic they had carefully cultivated with each other. She was painfully aware of what they were both destroying, and yet she couldn’t seem to resist or bring a stop to it. 

 

Even the slightest motion on the other side of the bed made Regina’s imagination work too hard. “I assume it’s become a more frequent activity for you, too,” she grunted, and then slammed into herself with so much force that the bed shook a bit beneath her. 

 

“Why do you assume that?” Emma countered breathlessly, though it seemed like a dumb question, considering her slippery fingers were teasing her hard clit and it was obvious even to herself that denying it would be pointless. She realized Regina had her fingers inside herself when the bed moved again, and suddenly Emma lost the ability to think and form coherent sentences. 

 

“For one, you’ve been single for at least a month,” Regina clarified, although her mouth barely twitched as she spoke, because of how every one of her muscles strained in search of pleasure. She locked her jaw and stretched her toes as she pounded her fingers deep into her cunt. “I also might have seen the assortment of lubricants in your bedside drawer. . .” 

 

“You were looking through my things?” Emma shrilly asked, and a new kind of panic washed through her as she considered what Regina could have seen. Yet her fingers never stilled for a second, and she allowed the adrenaline of fear to mingle with the excitement and elevate her pleasure. If everything about this was _so wrong,_ then why did it feel _so right?_

 

Fooling herself into believing that this one time act might not have disastrous outcomes for them both, Regina rested her leg more fully against Emma’s and bucked her hips. “I wasn’t invading your privacy. I needed a brush after the baby yanked my hair earlier,” she huffed. “I came across your collection instead. But there’s no shame in keeping your bedside drawer well-stocked—”

 

“Hey I’m not ashamed!” Emma whispered fiercely, although her face did burn shamefully in the darkness of her room. She huffed out a breath and let her foot glide up, then back down along Regina’s calf muscle in a very deliberate caress as she teased herself, prolonging the heat between them for as long as she could.

 

The physical connection between them spiked Regina’s libido to new heights. She sated her need with more powerful strokes that rewarded her with wetter smacking noises from her opening. The inappropriateness of the situation should have slowed her down, but it had the opposite effect as she approached orgasm. Muffled groans came from her as she rocked forward to meet release. Flipping impulsively onto her belly, she found better leverage and thrust downward against her penetrating fingers. “Often, I find myself wanting more than this,” she husked, and then her magic materialized a shapely instrument that she deftly pushed into her welcoming cunt. 

 

Emma had no way of knowing what was taking place underneath the sheets, and certainly didn’t consider the way Regina used magic to bring along a personal toy. All she knew was that Regina was rolling her hips against the mattress, pleasuring herself in nothing more than one of Emma’s t-shirts, and the likelihood of her excitement coating her sheets had just gone up. “I want—” You, Emma thought with a pained groan. She needed more, too—and yet was too afraid to say it, so she took a risk by slipping her free hand under her pillow to bring the shirt she had hidden up to the side of her face to sniff. It was pathetic, but she couldn’t bury her face against Regina’s skin and her scent still clung to the fabric. A throaty groan escaped her and she rubbed her clit in faster circles, the soft noise of her arousal almost drowned out by the delicious sounds of Regina’s pussy. 

 

In throes of jolting relief, Regina experienced a most exquisite high followed by a debilitating low. Collapsing face forward and panting heavily, Regina discarded the toy in a small gust of magic and grabbed at the pillows below her. She regretted being the type to never back down, and even more than that, she instantly regretted complicating the nature of her relationship with Emma. The extreme fall in her energy brought only bleakness with it and a dismal outlook about how all of this would play out. 

 

Hearing the sounds Regina made as she had orgasmed pushed Emma straight to the edge of her own, but before her pleasure could fully burst in a spectacular fashion, Regina interrupted the silence. 

 

“What is it you want?” Regina murmured. “Let me guess. To keep this our little secret?” She took a few shuddering breaths. “It’s obvious we’re both feeling confused, because of the circumstances with Swan and the Queen. I promise not to say a word about this to anyone, if you don’t.”

 

Regina’s harsh conclusion shred her arousal, and left Emma with nothing but a sudden and all consuming sadness. She pulled her hand from her panties and rolled onto her side away from Regina to conceal the unexpected feeling of rejection. “It’s late,” Emma thickly responded, feeling simultaneously stupid as hell and heartbroken. _What had she expected? That in the midst of satisfying themselves, they would share their feelings and suddenly become a couple?_ “We should try to sleep. Who knows when they’ll show up for the kid? I’ll feed her when she wakes up.” She wiped silent tears with the back of her hand and forced herself to breathe calmly.

 

Regina went limp against the bed and squeezed her eyes shut in despair. She instinctively reached out as if to caress Emma’s back. It lasted but a brief instant — her fingers hovering until she dropped her hand, unable to offer any solace for the pain she caused them both. “Have sweet dreams,” she softly warbled, and then curled into a ball of self–loathing. 

 

Neither of them slept peacefully, and Regina continued to glance at the alarm clock on Emma’s bedside table until it revealed that it was four in the morning. The baby whined and fussed, and yet Regina could not budge out of paralyzing guilt. 

 

Tending to the baby gave Emma an excuse to put distance between herself and Regina, and she grabbed at the chance when she heard the little one start to warble in warning. Without a word, she leapt out of bed, scooped up the child, and all but ran from the room as if it were on fire. Downstairs, she warmed a bottle while holding the baby in one arm, and spoke in a soft, jovial whisper as she rocked her carefully. “You take all the time you need tonight, because Emma’s an idiot. Yes she is. And she doesn’t want to face her problems—no she doesn’t. Because she should have known better than to get her hopes up. Now she’s ruined everything and didn’t even get to finish.”

 

Striding into the living room, bottle in hand and baby cradled against her with the other, Emma settled on the couch and began to feed the infant.

 

Going against what she wanted, Regina wandered down the stairs and into the living room. She dropped into the seat next to Emma just as the baby latched onto the bottle. “I know you said you’d feed her, but I like doing this with you,” she muttered, but she was much more reserved than she had been throughout the evening together. 

 

It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to snap that she didn’t need supervision, but lashing out would get them nowhere, and would only damage the already fractured friendship. Uncomfortable and aware of the tension between them, Emma tried to focus on the baby and not the way the air seemed to thicken with the promise of choking her. 

 

Fortunately the infant appeared to be unfazed, and drank from the plastic nipple eagerly, while making content and gassy noises.

 

“Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve watched late night TV.” Regina offhandedly remarked, and snagged the remote to turn on the infomercials just in time to see an advertisement for stuffed animals that projected stars onto the ceiling. 

 

“Knock yourself out,” Emma mumbled, her gaze skirting the edge’s of Regina’s face but never quite settling fully on it. She couldn’t look her in the eyes after what she’d done. Especially when she knew now that Regina thought of her as someone who would consider their intimacy a dirty little secret.

 

With a faint smirk, Regina tapped into her magic and scattered tiny twinkle lights all over Emma’s living room. “This is rather soothing,” she whispered. “Isn’t it?

 

The soft lights worked wonders, and soon Emma was gently burping her as if she had been doing it regularly and not just for a few days. How strange, to find herself in such a situation that she only experienced in her wildest dreams. It brought on a sense of deja vu that she couldn’t quite escape. 

 

Regina’s watery smile looked like it might crack as she gingerly stroked the baby’s fuzzy hair, then took a chance and peered over at Emma. “I wonder if the Evil Queen had a nice evening with Swan.” It would have been much easier to remain in bed and then spend the next few days avoiding Emma, but Regina expected that would only worsen the issue. Enduring temporary discomfort might be worthwhile, if it meant she could break the tension between them before morning. Her first approach involved pretending that they had never acted irresponsibly with each other.

 

“Well, nobody’s called to report a murder or a house on fire, so I can only assume they talked it out,” Emma drawled lightly, then added quite genuinely, “Good for them.” Who knew the darkest parts of herself could find everything she couldn’t? She didn’t feel bitter about it, or resentful at all. 

 

Emma just felt a strange sense of comfort that at least some fragment of her found the happiness she’d always secretly longed to experience. Maybe that could be enough. She glanced towards Regina and swallowed thickly. _Maybe it would have to be enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, we appreciate comments and kudos if you want to leave them! xx


	9. Chapter 9

The Evil Queen’s cyclone of purple magic touched down in the middle of Emma’s living room. As she stepped out of the eye of her own storm, she came upon a curious and invigorating sight: Regina with her head on Emma’s chest, fast asleep and so unaware of the Queen’s presence. In a basket right beside the couple, the baby dozed peacefully beneath her yellow blanket. 

 

Craning her neck towards the little display of family togetherness, the Evil Queen wore a hard and jeering grin – one that almost resembled a clownish mask, made of inflexible plastic, and painted with far too many garishly bright colors. 

 

From the swirling remains of her own grey magic, Swan emerged with a curiously blank expression on her face. She peered down at the sight of the savior and the mayor. On the surface they appeared to be a normal family—except that wasn’t _their_ child. 

 

“How picturesque,” Swan lilted dryly, disguising her envy with sarcasm. “I’ll let you wake them.” It wasn’t quite an offer, so much as acceptance that the Queen evidently had plans for how the morning would go now that they’d found the pair like this. She scooped the baby’s basket into her strong arms, steady so as not to wake the slumbering child, and carried her to a safe distance. “Good morning Selena.” Swan whispered, barely audible as she set the basket down by the stairs. With a slow blink, Swan made her way back to the Queen. “They’re all yours.” She stated, folding her arms in preparation for the show that was about to commence.

 

The Queen rubbed her hands together and let out the quietest cackle of appreciation. “You really _do_ know how to make me a happy girl,” she affectionately crooned, and then went so far as to squeeze one of Swan’s cheeks, in spite of the humorless way Swan glared back at her. 

 

Then the Queen turned her attention to Emma and Regina, and affected an air of dismay. 

 

“Just what have you done with our child?” The Queen spat loudly, as though aghast at discovering her daughter was missing. “I hope you’ve put her upstairs, seeing as how you’ve clearly spent the night trying to make one of your very own.” 

 

Regina flinched awake, registering first that the infant was no longer next to her—and second, that she had been so exhausted that she used Emma as a pillow. 

 

“Whatisit?” Emma blurted, jerking wide awake with a frenzied look around. “Why’s my shirt wet?” She absently ran her hand across the fabric that stuck to her chest with a grimace, then sighed as she looked up. 

 

The sight of Swan stoically staring back at her made her frown, but as she blinked, Emma met the eyes of the Queen, who stood mere inches away—with a maniacal grin spreading her lips to show off too many white teeth. 

 

Emma let out a groan, turning to glance at Regina then immediately looking away before their eyes met. “What’s going on? Why don’t you ever knock?”

 

With suspiciously good timing, a knock sounded at the front door—and then Snow let herself in with the spare key. Henry sped past her, and pulled off his sweatshirt to launch it into the laundry basket by the stairs, except it was _not_ a laundry basket after all. Sharp cries made Henry pause, and then he sarcastically yelled out, “Ma, you haven’t done laundry in so many days that it not only stinks, but it’s also screeching—“

 

The Queen came to the baby’s rescue with a soft puff of magic that brought the little one back into the crook of her arms. She glanced up curiously as Henry entered, gauging his every little response.

 

Henry moved forward at a casual stride, as if totally at ease with finding two sets of parents waiting for him. “I guess I shouldn’t ask any questions, because it’s clear you all weren’t expecting me,” he announced. “I forced Grandma to drive me here this morning, since I had an idea that something was going on. She gave me a brief recap of what happened.” As if just noticing the baby, he stepped forward to get a better look at her face and grinned down at her. “I found out I have a sister. What’s her name?”

 

“Selena,” The Queen happily replied, and a genuine smile curled at her lips. She didn’t even mind that Henry’s appearance brought an abrupt end to her ability to torment Emma and Regina. After all, she could always resume once their son went off to school. “Would you like to hold her, Henry?”

 

Henry nodded appreciatively and sank down into a chair, while the Queen dotingly placed the baby into his eager arms. “She’s so little,” he quietly remarked. “I always wanted a sibling.”

 

Regina was rapt with interest as she watched Henry taking care with the baby. Envy squeezed fleetingly at her heart, and then she forlornly glanced Emma’s way.

 

There were too many faces intently looking at Emma. She cringed as she focused on Regina, and her pale complexion changed to a shameful scarlet. Emma uselessly tried to wipe away the memories of last night, even as they hit her full force — the image of Regina naked, front and center in her mind – which was everything she didn’t want when her son and mother were standing a few feet from her. Scrambling to her feet, she rasped thickly, “Hey kid, I’m used to everyone else barging in but what, no text first?”

 

Henry rolled his eyes and nodded to his small sibling with a crooked grin that was all Emma. “And give you time to make up some excuse for all this? No way.”

 

Emma groaned, behaving just like a petulant child in moments of awkwardness, and then stepped into the kitchen as a way to extract herself from the chaos of the morning. “I need a cup of coffee.” She stated, then quietly under her breath, “Or seven.”

 

While everyone appeared to be distracted by Henry holding Selena, almost nobody noticed the way Regina sucked in a breath, then plastered on a smile to mask pain. 

 

Off to the side, Swan observed Regina silently, her stolid expression giving nothing away as she lifted her chin to ponder the reason for Regina’s sadness. Emma’s hasty movements in the kitchen drew Swan’s attention and she hummed curiously. _Something was amiss._

 

Snow suddenly cut through the soft chatter to effectively take command of the room as if she were standing in a castle, and not her daughter’s home. “Now that we’re all here,” she began, “I’d like to invite all of you to dinner tonight. As family. It’s important that we start to do these things, and normalize the situation.”

 

“Are you serious?” Emma called from the kitchen, turning to gawk at her mother. “You expect us all to do what, exactly? Sit at the table and pass around peas? It won’t end well.”

 

Swan smirked, and raised a pale eyebrow as she motioned towards Emma, insisting dryly, “The fool has a point. It’s unlikely the evening would be pleasant for anyone.”

 

Emma huffed out a breath at the insult, and then in a very mature move, threw Swan a look of disdain and flipped her off. “Thanks, Princess Emo.”

 

Henry stifled a laugh and sank into a seat with his little sister, mumbling softly to the infant, “I can’t wait until you talk. We’re gonna team up against our parents.”

 

The Queen clasped her hands together in delight while she watched Henry doting on the baby. Her eyes misted from happiness, but soon blackened as Snow proceeded to further ruin the moment. 

 

“Henry, technically that baby _isn’t_ your sister,” Snow gently stressed, and flailed as she tried to clarify. “But she is family, in a way, and of course we all need to make the best of this situation.”

 

The Queen drew a sidelong and murderous look at Snow. 

 

“I still haven’t informed David about this, or anyone else outside of our immediate family, and I really think we should consider notifying the town about the Queen’s return,” Snow breathlessly insisted in an anxious, high-pitched tone of voice. “We should also find a diplomatic way of breaking the news about Dark Swan. A lot of people will have questions. It will be easy to blame this unfortunate situation on the Wish Realm. So long as we present a united front, we shouldn’t have to deal with any hysterics from the townspeople. In the interest of getting along and of making all of this work, I am hosting dinner at my place tonight. You are all going to come, and that is final.” She wore a tight smile of thinning patience, and rushed into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. 

 

With a strange and dissociative grin, the Queen took a few short steps in Snow’s direction. Her wrist twisted back and a fuchsia puff of magic formed in her palm — but the threatening color changed chaotically. The Queen shook her head mournfully, and withdrew to Dark Swan’s side as she regained self-control. 

 

Regina had been focusing on her own self-loathing, but the familiar pull of the Queen’s magic snapped her back to reality. She noticed the Queen’s distress, Dark Swan’s somber expression, and Emma’s unsettled activity as she scooped coffee from a jar. “Why don’t you allow me to make dinner?” Regina offered. “My home is better suited for big family gatherings. And Emma will help me – “

 

“What a wonderful idea,” Snow intoned with a proud smile towards Regina. Her eyes shined with gratitude that at least someone was on board with her plans. “Thank you, Regina. Why don’t you and Emma make the main course? David and I will bring dessert.” She cheerfully suggested, hovering by the kettle as if it would boil faster under her supervision. “And why don’t you two bring—” She waved towards The Queen and Swan with an almost flustered gesture.

 

“Knives?” Swan helpfully suggested, her intense stare making it difficult to decipher if it was intended to be humorous or serious.

 

The Queen’s eyes lit up like bonfires as a twisted grin split her face and stretched her lips widely over bright white teeth. “Poison?” She offered, hooking one arm through Swan’s if only to rile Snow further.

 

“Guys, I think she means an appetizer.” Henry piped up with a smirk, shaking his head. With a roll of his eyes he cradled the baby closer and grinned when a tiny fist latched onto his thumb. “I should record this for when you’re older,” he whispered. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

 

Snow gave an undignified sniff and raised her chin haughtily. “You know what, no, just bring yourselves.” She snapped, entirely too motherly, and turned to lift the shrieking kettle off the stovetop.

 

Emma flinched, stirring her coffee absently as she eyed everyone in the room except Regina. In fact, she subtly moved around her mother and beelined straight for Henry to put space between them. It might have been cowardly to use him as a buffer and yet Emma couldn’t stop herself. It was bad enough that they’d fallen asleep on the couch after everything that had happened, adding yet another level of awkwardness to their already brittle friendship. A light tap and it would shatter into smithereens. She sipped at her coffee and perched herself on the arm of the chair to ask quietly, “So kid, you’re really alright with all of this?”

 

Henry snorted. Whatever fears he might have felt had clearly faded when he saw them all, especially his little sister. Snow’s semantics be damned, Selena was his sibling. “Well if two moms are better than one, then four must be pretty epic, right? What’s wrong with your shirt? Did you splash yourself in the kitchen?” He asked, frowning at the wet patch on her left breast.

 

“Wha-uh, no,” Emma sputtered, her face suddenly the shade of one of Regina’s apples as she caught the curious gaze of Swan, who seemed entirely to focused on her all of a sudden. “I mean _yes._ Yeah, you know me, Henry, I spill stuff.” She frantically stated, at a pitch far too high to ever be considered normal. Forcing a laugh, she pretended she couldn’t feel everyone’s eyes on her.

 

“The baby drooled on her,” Regina supplied, coming to the rescue with a disgruntled roll of her eyes and a _duh_ facial expression, just to make a mockery of Emma’s inability to tell a boldfaced lie. “Now, Henry, don’t be late for school. You have extra help before first period.” In an effort to rush this uncomfortable morning along, she dismissively flicked her hand towards Snow and produced perfectly brewed tea in a cardboard cup to go. 

 

The Queen glanced gleefully at Swan, and positioned herself on the couch uncomfortably close to Regina—even going so far as to pat her Other Half on the knee. “Go on, Henry,” she urged. “You can spend time with Selena tonight.”

 

Henry had no will to argue, and gently returned his little sister to Dark Swan. “She looks like you, Ma,” he grinned. 

 

Snow noticed the strange energy in the room, and turned to Emma for some kind of explanation, but her daughter just seemed embarrassed and equally clueless. “Okay, Henry, time to go,” she decisively declared. Turning on her heel, she mouthed the words _call me_ to Emma, and ushered Henry towards the foyer to collect his backpack.

 

The Queen waited just until the door clicked shut to destroy Emma’s hopes and dreams that she could continue avoiding what happened. “So, are you going to tell us what you did last night, or am I going to have to wait and find out when Regina’s carrying twins?” she boldly asked. 

 

“We did nothing that could result in us having any more children,” Regina firmly stated, with a disgruntled flick of her eyelashes towards Swan. “In fact, last night further solidified my opinion that Emma and I are better off as friends. We need only look at the two of you to realize all of the reasons we shouldn’t be in a relationship.”

 

Regina’s razor sharp tongue gutted Emma from across the room without the decency of a warning. The breath in her lungs stuck, and she pressed her back forcefully against the wall just to keep herself standing as she reeled from it. She had known Regina to reach in and rip out hearts, but she had no idea she could do it with words alone and no magic.

 

Swan kept her gaze on her daughter, but from the side of her eye saw the color drain from Emma as though she stood hemorrhaging. Perhaps it was latent empathy from having her own bad night, but she chose then to speak up. “Is that why you lied to Henry about being nestled against her as you slept?” The tone was casual as Swan lifted her chin to look straight at Regina, her tongue thick with syrupy sarcasm as she added sweetly, _“Baby.”_

 

The term of endearment visibly riled up Regina, and she sucked hard at her cheeks as her eyes flashed with malice. “I lied because Emma did,” she softly hissed. “I just came up with a more plausible explanation.” Swan’s involvement put Regina in a confrontational mood, and she stood up to cross the living room with short steps—but she became distracted by the infant in Swan’s arms. 

 

“I just went with what Henry said. I wasn’t about to tell him it was from you.” Emma finally found her voice, though it croaked slightly with a flux of emotion she tried her best to hide.

 

Swan ignored her counterpart and smirked slowly at Regina. “All that fight, and no-one to direct it towards.” She lilted softly, then tore her gaze away to look at the Queen.

 

“It’s funny how you claim that looking at _us_ is a deterrent to forming a relationship with Emma,” the Queen remarked, and sucked at her teeth resentfully. “All I see in your eyes right now is envy,” she pressed, with a curiously neutral tone of voice, although she followed Regina, and in a surprising move, placed a soothing hand on her double’s shoulder. “Yet it must be a turn-off that Emma won’t even so much as acknowledge that she has an interest in you. But why would she? It must be so hard on her, openly lusting after someone who is still widely viewed as an outcast and murderer. Poor savior — striving to live up to everyone’s _impossible_ expectations.”

 

Under Swan’s amused expression lingered a numbness that masked her own pain. Especially given how accidentally accurate the Queen had just been in describing what actually occurred for her in the Wish realm, and it _had been_ hard on her. Was it really any wonder then why she chose to set the baby down in her cradle and take a second stride towards Emma? In a backhanded way, Swan attempted to switch topics, but whether it worked or not was up to her other self. “Something has happened between you both. You might as well admit it now, unless you’d rather tell it at the dinner table.”

 

Bombarded from all sides, Emma felt not only her temper rising but a full on tsunami of guilt and shame from last night. If Regina had feelings for her, she wouldn’t have wanted to keep it a secret. It couldn’t be envy in Regina’s eyes – the Queen was just fucking with Emma, and she was too emotional to even read it as a lie. “With all due respect _Your Majesty,_ you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, and you can’t pit us against each other—”

 

The Queen gestured to herself innocently as if asking _who, me?_ And then she grinned maliciously. 

 

Regina turned a darker shade of red as Emma refused to disclose what occurred between them. She stared straight ahead, and then down at her own hands as she made an impulsive decision not to back up Emma’s claims. It might have been a betrayal, but Regina was sick of feeling like she would never be good enough for Emma. 

 

“We got a bit physical,” Regina confessed, preventing Emma from telling another terrible lie. “But it doesn’t matter. It will never happen again. Emma and I make great partners when it comes to parenting Henry, but we don’t love each other. Not like that. This isn’t. . . romance, or even attraction. Curiosity got the best of us, because of your relationship and presence here in Storybrooke.” 

 

Guardedly, Regina peered over at Swan to seek out comfort from Emma in that indirect way – by looking at the mirror instead of the original. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, I need to get home,” she insisted, just managing to keep up her charade of indifference long enough to retreat to the door. “I’ll see you all tonight.” With her head down in disgrace, she stepped out into the morning sunshine. 

 

The Queen pursed her lips and haughtily scrutinized Emma, unwilling to grant her space to cope with her emotional wounds. “Do you want my advice yet?” she asked. “Or do you want to continue being obstinate?”

 

There were only so many blows to her heart that Emma could take, and in the span of ten hours, Regina had managed to reach that limit. The shock that froze her to the spot transformed in her very veins to a white-hot searing pain that left every nerve ending screaming in agony. The breath that caught in the back of her throat was exhaled angrily like fire. How could Regina do that to her? How could she share that with _them_ after requesting it be kept a secret? A secret Emma hadn’t wanted to begin with. So that was how Regina truly felt, then. 

 

Emma felt simultaneously sick to her stomach and ready for battle as she growled at Swan and the Queen. “Get out.”

 

Swan considered the demand, and Emma very carefully. The point wasn’t to unravel their lives, but to enhance it, and so far it had backfired spectacularly. If she stayed, Emma would clam up, and all that rage would burst out eventually. Swan knew this, because Emma knew this, and it would prove futile to attempt to speak to her in her current state. She gave the Queen a warning glance, then dissipated in a cloud of magic, only to reappear in the passenger seat of Regina’s car. “Are you trying to break her?” She asked conversationally. 

 

Regina kept her focus on the road, although even her subtlest blink gave away the profundity of her pain. “Break her?” she echoed in disbelief. “Why would I want that? If anything, I did her a favor. I’d rather deal with her anger towards me than this continued awkwardness in my company. She wouldn’t even look at me earlier. Do you know how that feels? If we ever did sleep together, I bet she’d be the type to leave before sunrise and not call for days.” 

 

In the back of the car, Selena gurgled happily, secure in her car seat and oblivious to everything that was going on. Swan watched her in the rearview mirror, then slid her gaze towards Regina, whose knuckles were bright white and tightly wrapped around the wheel. “Ripping her heart out would have hurt less than what you just pulled.” Swan corrected coolly, keeping her eyes on Regina’s face to watch the way the muscles in her jaw clenched. “You know that, don’t you?” She concluded dryly. Even when she wasn’t the Queen, Regina was still just like her in some ways. Pressing on, Swan asked the only question that truly mattered. “When you said you got a little physical, just what exactly did you mean?” Now that she knew they hadn’t slept together, it puzzled Swan. A quick kiss or fumble shouldn’t have evoked such resentment.

 

Regina bleakly stared ahead and raised a shapely eyebrow in response to Swan’s insights and curiosities. “I took my clothes off for her,” she snapped. “I expected her to do _something_ after that, but instead she just loaned me some pajamas, and then we got into bed. I might have also joked about what I occasionally do in the privacy of my own bedroom at night, and she wanted a demonstration — so I gave her one. She had ample opportunity to make the next move, but she was too afraid, and frankly I don’t care how much she’s hurting right now. She’s ashamed of what we did. She’s ashamed of me—“

 

Pieces of the night before formed jaggedly in Swan’s mind, and her brow creased as she attempted to slot them all together to form a clear picture. Yet the events of the night before didn’t coincide completely with how they found them in the morning. “So she just sat there, and did nothing as she watched you masturbate?” Swan asked lightly, as though commenting on the weather. Since when did Emma not react to that kind of thing? She was an idiot, but surely not a _complete_ one. “If she was so ashamed of what you did, why were you practically sleeping on top of her this morning?” Swan frowned, recalling her own pang of envy at how serene they had looked as a family. The awkwardness of them all morning played on a loop in Swan’s mind. If Emma had said she was ashamed, Regina would have left that night. The tip of her tongue pressed against her back molar as she considered her next question. “Did you even ask her how she felt?”

 

“I didn’t have to ask!” Regina spat incredulously, and steered the car off to the side of the road near the diner. “If you must know all of the details, Emma turned off the lights and then we _both_ engaged in a little self-stimulation. She wouldn’t even put her hands on me. I might have fallen asleep on the couch with her after that, but only because your baby was fussy last night.” The baby cooed as if in response to that, and Regina lowered her overhead mirror to watch after the little one. 

 

There it was. _The missing piece._ Swan blinked lazily like a cat, her gaze firmly on Regina as the voices in her head all agreed simultaneously on one thing. Emma and Regina were _both_ stupid. “Incredible,” Swan drawled. “So you spoke about self love, and she asked for a demonstration. You gave her one, and she returned the favor. It sounds as if you were both enjoying yourselves.” She mused aloud, if only to force Regina to acknowledge the events that transpired. “Then what? Did one of you cry after your climax?” She lightly mocked, fully aware that something else must have occurred for this to have escalated to disaster.

 

“Nothing like that,” Regina husked bitterly, and yet she found it difficult to recall the precise events that resulted in Emma withdrawing. “I don’t know what happened, or where it all went wrong, but I’m done talking about all of this. It’s not helping. I don’t even want to think about her right now. It’s bad enough that we’ll both have to get through the family dinner tonight.” 

 

“If she even attends it.” Swan carelessly muttered, if only to affect Regina. One way or another Swan would find out more about what happened, but she knew better than to proceed right then. “What are we making?” She asked curiously, stepping out of the car when Regina came to a stop. Sensing Regina’s bewildered look before actually seeing it, Swan sighed dramatically. “Well Emma’s not here to help prepare the main course, so it looks like it’ll be up to us.” Bending over, she opened the back door and gently scooped Selena up. “Now, do you want to push the cart or carry the baby?”

 

Regina continued to gape up at Swan in confusion, but then she stepped out of her Mercedes and held out her arms to receive the infant. “That’s an easy choice,” she replied, and all of the pain of the morning seemed to recede as the baby focused on her. With the help of a little magic, Regina conjured up a fleece-lined carrier that strapped the infant securely to her chest. Then Regina walked with purpose towards the market, even as the townspeople of Storybrooke glanced her way, noticing her with Emma and the baby who resembled them too much to ignore. 

 

 

 

Back at home, Emma was in no mood for company, or responsibilities, or feelings in general. 

 

In fact, Emma Swan had made the unequivocal decision to give a fuck less than having no fucks at all. If she were a temperature, she’d be minus fuck. With determination, she stormed into the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, uncapped it with a rough twist, and decided to forego the glass as she brought it to her lips and took a swig.

 

In spite of how much this situation resembled a predicament she had found herself in once before, the Queen trailed after Emma into the kitchen and dared to tread over the hard line that the savior had so clearly drawn. 

 

The Queen feared the consequences if she left Emma alone to self-destruct, but she hesitated to fully engage with her. “I’m not leaving you,” she finally asserted, with so much concern and tenderness that she coughed to cover up the raw emotion. “Have you forgotten that we have a family dinner to attend later? What will everyone think if you show up with a hangover?”

 

“Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks? I’m not attending.” Emma spat back viciously, her lips forming an angry, tight white line when she finished. She raised her arms up, with a twisted and bitter smile warping her features as she faced the Queen. “I’m not striving to live up to everyone’s expectations now.” She mockingly threw the words back at the Queen and took a bow. 

 

“What do you even want?” Emma snapped, still clutching the bottle as she glowered darkly at the Queen. “Your audience all left. You should too.” She sneered at her, fired up and heartbroken as she took another swig to disguise the choked sob that threatened to surface. Angrily, she wiped the back of her forearm across her eyes and stomped off to the privacy of her bedroom, where the first tears finally slid hotly down her cheeks. She didn’t want to face the world, or her pain, or the devastating betrayal that Regina had actually just said all of that, then left. She sank heavily onto the edge of her bed and set the bottle of liquor on the cabinet. Impulsively she snatched the shirt tucked under her pillow and breathed in the fading scent of Regina. Only then did she begin to sob, although the soft fabric stifled the sound.

 

The Queen listened from the bottom of the stairwell, and then appeared in Emma’s bedroom in a light puff of magic. She reached out cautiously, and gently ran her fingers over Emma’s shoulder before she dared to sit down and gather the distraught woman into her arms. “Emma, please don’t cry,” she whispered. 

 

Putting her forefinger under Emma’s chin, the Queen found a handkerchief in her pocket and wiped the tears from Emma’s cheeks. “All of this is happening because you and Regina are both trying to deny your feelings for one another,” she sighed out in frustration, and sincere concern. “I know you’re not ready, Emma. You’re scared that your family won’t accept you, and you’re scared that a relationship won’t work out with her—” 

 

Emma sucked in a stuttered breath and tried to untangle herself from the Queen like a distraught child trying to avoid being picked up. “You don’t know anything!” She snapped back, the emotion in her voice causing it to wobble just like her chin. “She’s the one who wanted to keep it a secret, then promised not to tell anyone! I never asked for that, I didn’t want it!” Erratic as the beat of her heart, Emma paced the length of her bedroom, arms swinging wildly as she gestured. “You think I’m the one who’s afraid of what people think, but ever since you got here I’ve been the one who advocated for you and Swan. She wanted to tear your relationship apart.”

 

“Let’s not make this about Swan, or about me,” the Queen insisted, although she glowered and batted her long lashes to conceal the mixture of unpleasant emotions that threatened to become complete volatility. “If you’re not afraid, just be honest with her. You’ve both misunderstood one another, so go and fix it. Or you can stay here, and continue to wallow over what she said when she was overly emotional and offended by how you treated her. Like some one night stand.” While she intended to console Emma, she ended up dishing out a lecture instead. 

 

Emma stopped suddenly, tear stains already drying down her face as she burst into laughter. Not warm, or bubbly, or humorous — but broken, maniacal laughter that tore out of her throat like shrapnel to scatter around the room. “You don’t even know what happened and you’ve already decided to excuse her and blame me.” She shook her head in disbelief before suddenly nodding. Of course the Queen would side with Regina. With her body trembling from the excessive emotions consuming her, Emma cracked, and angrily shouted, “Go fuck yourself, since you’re so good at it.” If the Queen wouldn’t leave, then Emma would. Strange magic engulfed her like a starless night, pulling her away from her home to spit her out in the dingy bathroom of The Rabbit Hole.

 

Unable to hide the way she jumped in reaction to Emma’s raised voice and use of magic, the Queen drew back and fell into a defensive huddle. She ducked beside the bed, and once Emma had gone, the Queen folded her arms around her knees and hyperventilated until she became dizzy. Her fingers drummed over her own ribcage, and then she ripped out her fast pulsing heart in desperation. 

 

With a powerful squeeze that affected the integrity of the heart, the Queen tried to avert an oncoming panic attack, but she clutched much too roughly—hard enough that she inflicted real damage. She toppled over onto the carpet and the heart slipped from her hand. 

 

Disgruntled and on the verge of fighting her own shadow, Emma wrenched the door open to the bathroom inside the Rabbit Hole. Stomping heavily into the dimly lit bar, she made her way towards the bar and had to wonder why so many people were already there drinking before noon. “Whiskey. Straight.” She bit the words out with a snap of her teeth, and slid a couple of dollars towards the tender who barely looked at her. She slammed it back and hissed at the burn it left behind. “What the hell was that, battery acid?” The guy behind the bar shrugged and wandered off to serve someone else, leaving Emma with nothing but her own frustrations.

 

Ruby spotted Emma from across the room, and slid up to her with a bright grin on her face that faded fast. “Having a liquid breakfast today instead of your usual from Granny’s?” she asked facetiously, and popped onto the stool beside Emma. “Let me guess, you had to break up another bar fight.” She only meant to tease her friend, but Emma’s vibe finally registered with her and she frowned in worry. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. “You don’t seem like yourself. “ In one hand she gripped a creased paper bag of take-out from Granny’s, and shoved it across the counter when the barkeep came over to get it. “Wait, did you actually come in here just to drink?” she asked in shock. “It’s not even 10 o’clock in the morning.” 

 

With her arms crossed and resting against the counter, Emma hunched over her empty glass as Ruby spoke. The last thing she wanted was to be around friends. She had no energy to explain, and no desire even if she did have energy.

 

Emma sighed out slowly and licked the remnants of whiskey off her lower lip. “Bad day.” She supplied, her voice raspy as she signaled for another drink. 

 

Compassion emanated from Ruby, warm as sunlight. Emma shrank from it, seeking out the shadows of her misery. “Don’t want to talk about it.” She added, before Ruby had the chance to even ask. Normally she had all the time in the world for the girl, and more than once it had been her shoulder she’d leaned on, but how could she begin to explain everything that had happened? That their counterparts had arrived in town with a baby, and that suddenly the attraction she had towards Regina had been put under a microscope, until the intensity of it burned their friendship to dust.

 

Ruby cringed, and planted herself more firmly on the stool, even if she seemed doubtful about her ability to get answers out of Emma. “I’ll have my usual,” she told the bartender, and patted Emma sympathetically on the back. “I’ll just have to join you in getting wasted, because you definitely shouldn’t be alone when you’re like this. I don’t think I’ve seen you this dejected since you first moved to town.” With the light of recognition in her eyes, Ruby glanced back at Emma as she took her drink in hand. “Does this have something to do with Regina? I heard a strange rumor yesterday that you’re both looking after someone’s baby.”

 

Against her will, Emma laughed, a short bark that she couldn’t contain. “Yeah, something like that.” She said bitterly, her fingers curling tightly around her glass as she fought back the rush of emotions trying to surface. “It’s complicated.” She added after a beat, then sipped at the strong liquor, hissing as it left her throat on fire. At least it was a pain she had chosen herself. Self inflicted pain felt better than the ache that pulsed through her ribcage. “Aren't you on the clock?” Emma asked, tilting her head towards the door as if Granny’s diner was over there. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’m in enough of my own.”

 

“Are you kidding? If I left you by yourself in a time of crisis, Granny would have my hide,” Ruby joked, attempting to cheer Emma up as she grinned widely, even if the present sight of her friend was truly getting to her. “You know, I’m pretty much an expert when it comes to getting out of trouble. I know you probably want to be alone to lick your wounds, but why don’t you give me a chance to help you? You’re always helping me, and everyone else in this town.”

 

“I don’t think anyone can help me.” Emma quietly stated, then grimaced as she thought of Swan. “Not even myself.” Well, if she was going to drown her feelings she should get on with it. Knocking back her drink, Emma raised the empty glass until the bartender got the hint and came back to fill it, grunting around a mouthful of his breakfast. “Just leave the bottle.” Emma muttered, handing over more than enough money to cover the price. She turned to Ruby and raised her glass to clink against her friends in a bitter toast. “Fuck feelings and the expectations of others.” She announced, and took a sip.

 

Ruby marveled over the drastic alteration in her friend, but drank up all the same, and leaned into Emma to provide morale support. It would have better if she could talk Emma out of drinking the entire bottle of whiskey, but she knew better than to try, and the next best thing was to finish her drink at a much slower pace so she could drive them both home. She went to the bathroom and called Granny to notify her that she would be missing their morning breakfast rush, and then returned to Emma’s side at the bar. “Hey, Em,” she murmured, determined to try again and offer her some comfort. “You are aware that I think you’re pretty great, right? I might be prying, and if that’s the case, I’m really sorry. But I am going to take a guess that all of this has something to do with your parents and Regina, because I’m pretty sure Snow would be here otherwise, and I know for certain that Regina would. We don’t have to talk about it, but I just wanted to say that you’re all going to work it out, because they’re your family—” 

 

“It doesn’t matter, Ruby.” Emma said conversationally, her cheeks ruddy from the alcohol. She could feel it now, gradually numbing the frayed edges of her soul, leaving a warmth across her skin as she breathed deeply. “I know what _she_ thinks of me now. Her mind’s made up.” The word sounded like a pop as it left her mouth and she shrugged. It felt so final to say it out loud, a line drawn and never to be crossed again. “But you know what’s funny?” She asked, as if Ruby understood everything without knowing a damn thing about the situation. “How fucking wrong she is about me.” Emma took another drink, and swirled the remains around to watch it crash against the sides of the glass—a well contained storm that she swallowed over to soothe the one raging inside her. “S’all good though.” She grunted, and then poured another shot.

 

Perplexed and concerned, Ruby only nodded and then boldly put her hand over the top of the glass to prevent Emma from drinking it. “Okay, you’ve finished almost half of the bottle,” she pointed out. “In. . . _wow,_ a little under 30 minutes. Let’s save the rest for later. Maybe you could tell me who’s wrong about you? Is it _Regina_?” She gestured to the bartender and inconspicuously requested for him to take the bottle away, but he dismissed her since Emma had already paid. 

 

Leaning forward, Ruby shoved the cork back into the bottle and tucked it under her arm. “Why don’t we get some coffee from the diner? Or better yet, I’ll get it to go, and we can head back to your place.”

 

Emma stopped herself from lashing out with misplaced anger and slumped miserably against the bar. She already felt like shit, and there was no need to make Ruby feel the same way. She sucked on her lower lip as tears blurred her vision and threatened to fall. “No.” Emma forlornly said, “I just want to go home and sleep it off.” She sniffled, and pushed herself onto unsteady feet. She hadn’t really paid attention to how much she drank, and it was lucky that Ruby had been looking out for her. “I’m sorry.” Emma warbled thickly around the lump in her throat. “Drop me off at home, and don’t tell anyone. Please, Ruby, I can’t deal with anyone else today.”

 

Ruby reluctantly gathered up their coats and nodded to show that she understood Emma’s plea for discretion. “It’ll be our secret, just so long as you text me when you wake up,” she promised, and then escorted Emma out of the bar and towards the lot where she parked her muscle car. Emma lived close enough to town, but Ruby took the long way if only to give her friend a little more time to sober up. “If you need me for anything at all, you call,” Ruby demanded, as she drove up Emma’s driveway and pulled in beside the toolshed. 

 

Emma mumbled her thanks and drunkenly stepped out of the car to stagger up the path. She slammed the front door behind her and threw off her jacket. It landed somewhere at the bottom of the stairs as she made her way up them, clinging to the banister. She kicked one of her boots off just before her bedroom, then spotted the Queen slumped across her bed. “Why are you still _here_?” She slurred angrily. “Don’t you have anywhere else to take a nap?” She huffed out a breath and kicked off her other boot. Yet the Queen never stirred, and there was a soft glow coming from the side of her boot where it had landed by the dresser. “Very funny your majesty.” Emma muttered as she knelt down to investigate the mysterious glow. Her aggravation quickly turning to blind panic as she realized what the hell was glowing. “Regina?” She exhaled sharply, scooping up the Queen’s heart as gently as her intoxicated hands could. “Regina! No, no, why does it look like a crumbling bath bomb?” She hysterically demanded of the silent room. Closing her eyes, Emma focused on the soft beat and funneled every ounce of energy she could into it. The brittle sides changed, forming the soft round swell of a heart once more with its swirl of inky darkness dimming the blood red.

 

Emma sagged onto her bed and crawled towards the Queen as she ranted drunkenly, “What the hell are you doing ripping your heart out. Wasn’t mine enough today?” Trembling, Emma pushed the Queen’s heart back into her chest and sobbed in relief when the woman gasped. “Fuck you for scaring me half to death,” She hissed. “And fuck Regina too for being so stupid, and for thinking I’d want to keep it a secret, and fuck her shitty attitude and cynical nature, and her stupid face, and her beautiful body, and the noise she makes when she comes, and just fucking— _fuck her._ ” Emma groaned face first against her duvet. “I want to fuck her.” She finished miserably, and the sweet emptiness of alcohol-induced exhaustion began to engulf her. 

 

The Queen hunched on the floor beside the bed with her arms braced over her chest. Her near death experience frightened her, yet it was Emma’s crying and raving that rendered her completely useless—but only until Emma’s inebriated declarations made the Queen’s lips form a bizarre and broken smile. Stroking her own ribcage just to ensure her own bodily integrity, the Queen cricked her neck and eased herself back onto her feet. It would be unbearable if anyone found her cowering, especially now that she had a clear advantage over Swan. Emma’s confession soothed the Queen in more ways than one, and she was comforted as she considered all of the acid and venom in the savior’s voice— _all of it raw and terrible_ —but so much better than any alternative which involved completely denying her feelings towards Regina, and pushing herself towards certain self-destruction. She covered Emma up with a blanket, and watched over her for a while as she snoozed. 

 

While Emma slept off her drinks, the Queen tidied up the bedroom and the house, and began preparing a meal that would allow her to be as offensive as possible at dinner that night: a tray of roasted quail, which might have been a small flock of Snow’s feathered friends, and an apple stuffing that she planned to plate up with greens, mashed potatoes and teeny, tiny sausages. She even put on her favorite apron for the occasion and hummed while she cooked. With her best efforts, they might just have a nice family dinner together after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief talk of violence/Queen's detainment at the end of the chapter.

Domesticity had a way of creeping up on Swan, like hyenas trying to steal another predator’s kill. It irked Swan to no end, and yet she had no way of preventing it. The entire morning they had gone to not just one shop, but a total of four. The first was a local supermarket, which by all rights could have covered all their culinary needs. _Or so she thought._

 

Swan made the mistake of lifting a packet of steaks, which Regina promptly wrested from her hand, and flung back onto the counter as though the meat had been poisoned. It turned out they were there for some basic herbs, a fancy oil, and a couple sticks of butter. 

 

Swan added a box of donuts to their cart, and Regina informed her if she wanted to eat trash she could do it with the rest of the vagrants, and scavenge from the garbage. 

 

If Regina hadn’t been escorting her child around in that peculiar device that strapped Selena to her like a fly caught on a web, Swan would have very likely pushed her into the bargain buckets that seemed to be at the end of every aisle, just to spite her. 

 

An hour and no baked goods later, Swan suggested they just use magic and be done with it. 

 

Regina shot the idea down before it had fully left Swan’s tongue, and it had taken all Swan’s willpower not to spit back something acerbic. 

 

It felt like a foolish endeavor to drive around town collecting bits and pieces here and there when they had the talent to just pull a fantastic meal from thin air. Suggesting they combine magic to make a feast treated Swan to a very rare, very deadly look from Regina, who crankily offered to grow her an appendage just to cut it off. Combining magic, Regina stressed sharply, was something she’d never do with her, and recommended Swan keep her magic to herself and the Queen. It had been on the tip of Swan's tongue to inform Regina that she needn’t grow _anything_ thanks to the item she’d bought, but she thought better of it and smirked instead.

 

Apparently the best vegetables came from a peculiar little store at the edge of town. Regina had assured her that it wasn’t cursed, despite how dated the place appeared to be and how wild the garden had grown. With misshapen produce of gargantuan proportions, the elderly man who claimed to grow them all on his own didn’t take kindly to Swan asking if the fertilizer he used came from giants or ogres. 

 

Swan suspected both, from the stench of the place, and Regina had made a point to hand her the bags with a stern look as she requested they be placed in the trunk of her car. 

 

Swan wasn’t fooled. She knew damn well it was _her_ that Regina wanted to stuff in there, but she took the excuse for fresh air when she got it and allowed herself the time to fiddle with the stereo.

 

Country music wielded the advantage of grating on Regina’s nerves, and so Swan kept clicking back to that station as they drove, much like a bored child clicked a pen repeatedly. Eventually Regina had enough, and in her attempt to slap Swan’s hand away, knocked off the button, and now it was stuck on the station. 

 

With the only sensible answer being to turn it off entirely, Regina did. And much to her chagrin, Swan began to mock sing in a very deliberate southern drawl of how the mayor broke the music box and the whole town was sad.

 

Eventually they made it to the butchers, which felt ironic given how close Swan had come to being flayed alive during the drive over. She observed the almost serene way Regina picked out the meat, and wondered how long it had taken her to find all the places that she’d deemed the best according to her tastes and standards. How lonely it must have been to live the same day every day, and be the only one to know it, with the only differences being the things that Regina bought and tried. 

 

This time, Swan took the bags to the car without being prompted, and didn’t torment Regina with terrible singing once they were driving.

 

The last and final stop was at a very quaint little store that sold nothing but wine. Bottles of all shades and colors lined the walls. The prices, and coatings of dust varied from wine to wine, and Swan felt compelled to touch the ones that cost the most with the sheer intent of potentially causing the elderly shop owner to have a heart attack.

 

After all, Emma Swan may be the savior, but she sure as hell had a reputation for being clumsy. 

 

Regina caught wind of Swan’s antics after she selected a third bottle to dust off with a heavy hand, and all but snatched the bottle from Swan with a sneer that said she’d like to shove it somewhere. 

 

Swan quirked an eyebrow and offered a smug grin, but silent threats remained just that. Regina settled on what she wanted and bought four bottles, two red and two white, and Swan sighed in relief when they were finally done shopping. 

 

By the time they got back to Mifflin Street, it was almost two thirty in the afternoon. Swan insisted she carry the multiple bags, as Regina still had the baby, who had become fussy, no doubt from hunger. 

 

But as Swan pushed through the door with all the groceries, she stopped dead in her tracks and sniffed the air. “Why does it smell like food?” She asked Regina, bewildered, yet walked further into the mansion. 

 

Upstairs and tucked out of sight, Emma lay sprawled across Regina’s bed, fully clothed and softly snoring. 

 

Noise from the kitchen drew Swan’s attention, and so she led the way with all of the bags, only to falter at the sight of the Queen in an apron. “Aren’t you meant to be with Emma?” she asked lightly, eyes narrowing in suspicion as she set everything down on the counters.

 

The Queen smoothed her hands down the front of her apron and did her best to appear inculpable. “Oh, I am with Emma,” she revealed, with a vague gesture towards the back staircase. “But she’s exhausted from the lack of sleep, so I sent her upstairs for a nap. Poor thing looks just like Selena when she’s over tired.” 

 

With outstretched arms, the Queen approached Regina to collect and assess her grouchy baby. The Queen untied her apron first, then sat at the kitchen table to nurse the infant while she cursorily glanced over at the bags in Swan’s hands. “We’re all ready for tonight. We prepared a five course meal with magic,” she softly informed them, enunciating her words just to see how they registered with Swan and Regina. “We figured that Regina would spend the day at work, and we didn’t want to disappoint our perfect little family.”

 

Regina ripped off the wearable infant carrier, and stormed around the kitchen to put away all of the ingredients she had just spent hours carefully selecting. “If Emma helped you cook this meal, you’re not only going to disappoint everyone. You’re also going to give them multiple foodborne illnesses,” she snapped. 

 

“If only that was so,” the Queen lilted. “Snow White and Prince Charming deserve to have intestinal distress.” She let out a gravelly laugh of pure joy, and wiped stray droplets of milk from her baby’s little chin. Then she gathered her daughter into a small bundle and patted Selena’s back to make her burp. 

 

Swan’s mind became a hive, and the bees that buzzed were the doubts that raced around at the almost cavalier way the Queen mentioned combining magic with Emma. It didn’t quite tally up, given the volatile emotions of Emma that morning, and for that reason and that reason alone, Swan’s face remained a stolid mask while Regina’s scrunched in anger. Given the way Regina had reacted earlier when Swan suggested doing the same thing, it didn’t surprise her in the slightest, but what was the point of such a fabrication from the Queen beyond eliciting jealousy? Regina’s movements seemed jerky and stiff as though she fought the urge to physically lash out, and Swan wondered how long her self-control would last.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us that the pair of you would make dinner?” Swan asked slowly, coming around to stand by Regina as if symbolically taking her side on the matter, if only to see how the Queen reacted in turn. “Regina put a lot of effort into what she purchased today. What did you even make?” Swan curiously intoned, a slender pale eyebrow lifting to punctuate her question. A loud thump echoed through the floor from upstairs and Swan gazed upwards as if trying to look through the ceiling. “Looks like someone is now awake,” she stated dryly.

 

Emma Swan was many things, but a _panty sniffer_ she was not. Which was why, when she awoke in a bed, surrounded by someone’s lingerie, she pressed her hand to her throbbing, hungover head and all but launched herself backwards off the mattress when a pair of silky, black panties caressed her face. She groaned from her tangled heap on the floor and shook her hand to rid herself of the offending garment that appeared to be tangled around her fingers. 

 

“What the hell is going on?” Emma whispered to herself, eyes bleary and mouth as dry as a one of Granny’s whole wheat toasts. Grunting with effort to stand up, a fresh wave of horror hit her when she realized exactly where she was and subsequently whose panties she’d been sleeping with. “No, I—” 

 

_She’d gone home--she knew that because Ruby had taken her, so then how the hell had she gotten into Regina’s bed?_

 

The thumping of her head got louder until it echoed through the mansion. At least, she thought it did, until the noise registered as angry footsteps stomping up the stairs. Wide eyed and in a wild panic, Emma waved her hands around to use magic to put the lingerie back where it belonged, except, she was hung over, and her magic reflected that in a rather mocking way. 

 

Instead of the sheer fabrics folding themselves and vanishing into drawers, they drunkenly swayed through the air and spun around in a twisted resemblance of that scene in _Matilda,_ where the CDs went flying. Hurriedly Emma began plucking them from their suspended state and stuffed them into her pockets before the door swung open.

 

The sight of Emma’s bulging jeans struck up immediate suspicion in Regina, who halted in the doorway with a glare of reproach. Far too outraged to ask questions, Regina stalked up to Emma and pulled her most revealing lingerie out of Emma’s pockets. “I see you’ve resorted to stealing all of my panties, since you know I am never going to give you the chance to get back in them ever again,” Regina wrathfully spat. 

 

“I’m not trying to steal them!” Emma incredulously snapped back, aghast at the implication that she would do such a thing. “I woke up surrounded by them.” She sputtered. There was no point in trying to explain, because Regina had already made her mind up.

 

Emma felt a resentment building up at the way Regina automatically kept assuming the worst of her. The headache inside her skull pounded at her, like a jackhammer trying to break free, and it only added to the aggravation on her face as Regina continued emptying her pockets.

 

It was a little like what clowns do at children’s birthday parties, when they pull a rope of brightly colored fabrics out of nowhere. Only all of Regina’s thongs were darker, or animal print, and Regina wryly noted that Emma had taken the sexiest pairs. 

 

Regina marched Emma out into the hall like an apprehended criminal, by poking her in the back until she moved. “And since when are you comfortable collaborating with the Queen long enough to magically cook us a five course dinner?” she huffed, as if that offense was even more obscene than finding Emma with all of her underwear. “I know we complicated our friendship last night, but you are doing exactly what you said we wouldn’t do. We were supposed to be a team, Emma, and I understand why all of this is shameful to you, but get over it.” 

 

Emma should have just kept her mouth shut and let Regina stew on her own ridiculous conclusions but she couldn’t. Enough was enough. She stalked towards her with a snarl until Regina was forced back against her bedroom door. “You’re as insane as she is if you think I’d use magic to cook with her,” she growled, her bloodshot eyes narrowed in anger. “And for the record I never asked to keep what we did a secret. _You did,_ right after you came. I never got to finish what I’d started sayi—”

 

“If you’re both done bickering like children,” Swan cut Emma off from the bottom of the stairs, from where she’d been intently listening. “We have a dining room to get ready, along with ourselves. Unless you’d like this family dinner to be remembered for all the wrong reasons, in which case, carry on.”

 

Regina wrenched her elbow free of Emma’s gentle grip. “If you didn’t want to keep it a secret, you had ample opportunity to clarify,” she hissed quietly, now that Swan was keenly observing them. “You might not have told me at the moment, but you could have easily called today, or even sent me a text. I’ve never known you to be anything less than brave, but when it comes to your feelings for me, you’re the most cowardly person I know.”

 

Gracefully, Regina descended the staircase without even acknowledging her own part in the apparent misunderstanding between them. 

 

While silently justifying her opinions and behaviors to herself, Regina decided to take the easy way out for once and transformed her attire with a head-to-toe wave of her hands. She chose a stunning dress, better suited for a night of private entertaining than a family affair. The form-fitting material emphasized her cleavage and tapered off mid-thigh, with a band of fabric that encircled her neck like a choker. 

 

Emma’s jaw slackened in silent fury that robbed her of words and sense as she followed Regina with her eyes. It didn’t help that she chose the most flattering, risqué dress to wear and Emma muttered quietly under her breath, “Bitch.” It was callow and ridiculous but she knew this was to spite her, to show her what she’d never have, and it hurt just as Regina had intended. 

 

Flustered, Emma’s gaze landed on Swan’s and for a moment she couldn’t look away. It troubled her when she realized the look her counterpart shared with her was not one of superiority but of empathy, and she turned then to march back into Regina’s bedroom where she ripped off her clothes and took perhaps the most intensely scalding shower of her entire life. If Regina wanted to rub everything she couldn’t have in her face, then she’d do it straight back.

 

Downstairs in the living room, The Queen appreciatively raked her eyes up Regina, and admired her own beauty from her outsider perspective. 

 

In her simple clothing and with a baby in her arms, the Queen looked much more like the Regina of Storybrooke than the woman that stood across from her. To make them more distinguishable, the Queen followed Regina’s example and settled on a leather pencil skirt and top, with her hair in an updo that only stayed in place by the magic of too much hairspray. She also kept her glittering jewels—onyx studs in her ears, and a gaudy and layered string of stones that covered her entire neck. 

 

Last of all, the Queen changed the baby’s romper into a black dress with a few tasteful frills and rhinestones. “How sweet,” she cooed, kissing both of Selena’s chubby little cheeks. 

 

“You’re going to dress her in _that_?” Regina objected, and without even asking permission, she made small alterations to the dress to make it better suited for the infant who wore it. 

 

“Just because you’ve taken to wearing practical clothing in boring neutral colors does not mean everyone has to sacrifice fashion for the sake of function,” the Queen replied, and carried the baby into the dining room to prepare the table. 

 

The energy in the mansion felt charged. Friction had created a wonderful buzz that left the hairs at the nape of Swan’s neck standing on end. It was a deliciously dangerous combination and sooner or later, something or someone would spark and explode. She couldn’t wait to find out who it would be. “Tonight is going to be far more interesting than I thought.” She mused aloud quite intentionally, as she sauntered by Regina and lifted Selena from the Queen’s arms to cradle against herself. The infant looked precious, and despite the volatile situation, Swan remained calm and quite content to dote on her daughter. She brushed her lips against the soft dark hair on her head and breathed in the scent of her child. With a flick of her wrist, Swan changed her outfit to tight leather pants and a fitted shirt and tie that matched The Queen and their daughter perfectly.

 

Ten minutes later, half of which were spent in front of the mirror, Emma confidently strode into the room wearing a sleeveless leather dress that showed off her powerful arms, with knee length leather boots to match. Her hair fell loosely in princess curls and her makeup was flawless thanks to magic. She ignored Regina and walked straight to the Queen to help her with the tablecloth. “I hear you’ve made dinner,” she drawled.

 

“Oh, I can’t take all of the credit,” the Queen purred, and with a flourish of magic, set the table with gold goblets and cloth napkins, and fine porcelain dishes fit for royalty. “You were a true inspiration earlier, and it made me feel so much better about my decision to return here to Storybrooke. I really _can_ start over now instead of repeating the same old patterns.” Her brilliant smile only lit up further as she tickled her daughter’s chin, and pressed herself into Swan’s side as if to prove her commitment to that plan. “I don’t want to spend another minute on petty arguments,” she insisted, and then rolled her eyes at her own mistake. “Okay, so that’s not entirely true: I love pettiness and I love arguing. But only when the target of my ire deserves it, or when the person I’m fighting with is Swan—because that always leads up to multiple orgasms.” She peered over at Regina and Emma and waved at them meaningfully. “In fact, I highly recommend the two of you try that approach to take care of your current disagreement.” 

 

Suspicious and all too surly, Emma only gawked at the Queen. “There was nothing inspirational about earlier.” She snapped, hell bent on ignoring the comment the Queen flung at them. _What the hell was the Queen even talking about? Was this before Emma stormed out or when she had to shove her heart back in before it crumbled like one of Snow’s ill fated attempts at muffins?_

 

Swan watched the cogs in Emma’s head turn, and while she wanted her own answers about what happened earlier in the day, showing a united front won half the battle. So when she saw Emma’s lips part to say something else, she did the one thing she knew would halt her in her tracks. Swan slid her hand to the back of the Queen’s neck and pulled her in for a very passionate, deep kiss. “I like you in this skirt.” She murmured, pulling back to properly look the Queen over.

 

Flustered and turned on by the sight of herself kissing the face off of Regina, Emma spun around sharply and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water and some Aspirin. She swallowed it over with a greedy gulp. The response her body had frankly disturbed her, though the rational side of her argued it was no different than seeing a clip from a homemade sex tape. _Still, it was fucking weird._

 

Regina also made an escape, rather than continue to witness the public displays of affection between Swan and the Queen. She staggered into the kitchen behind Emma and knocked two tablets out of the Aspirin bottle to wash down with a glass of wine. Affronted by Emma’s mere presence, she stalked away at the first opportunity—when she heard Henry throw open the front door and bound into the house. 

 

Henry paused in front of Swan and the Queen, as they stood with their arms wrapped around one another and their tongues down each other’s throats. He blushed and blinked rapidly in shock, then backed into the kitchen and straight into his mother. Jumpy, he shot away from Regina and then turned to face her. “For a second, I thought that was you and Ma,” he breathed, pointing behind him at Swan and the Queen, and visibly comparing between them and the grumpy looking couple that stood in the kitchen. “I should probably tell you that Grandma and Gramps will be here any minute,” he frowned. “Snow dropped me off, then she was going to pick up a cake from the bakery and come right back. . .” 

 

“Oh, we’ll just carry right on, then,” the Queen saucily decreed, and grabbed firm hold of Swan’s tie to ensure that Prince Charming and Snow White would be treated to a show the minute they arrived. 

 

When the doorbell rang, Regina refused to budge and frantically gestured for Emma to let David and Snow inside. “Go greet your parents!” she demanded. 

 

Emma stubbornly ignored her, even after Regina stood behind her and tried to forcibly push her towards the foyer. They wrestled it out for a moment like children until Henry huffed and trudged off to welcome his grandparents. He returned with a blue baby carrier that belonged to his two year old uncle, and David gently deposited Neal into it before he glanced up. 

 

Snow floundered at the chaos before her – equally taken aback by both the sight of Swan and the Queen kissing, and the sight of Regina and Emma pushing each other around. 

 

David’s jaw dropped in total shock, and he almost lost hold of the bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “Emma?” he asked in bewilderment as he approached Swan, who presently had her hand on the Queen’s ass. 

 

Swan shared a salacious look with the Queen, and her slow blink matched the lazy grin that stretched across her painted red lips as she faced David proudly. “Wrong one, 'daddy'. . .” The word formed sweetly on her tongue but the caliginous glint in her eyes carried a warning.

 

Fed up with the shoving match that Regina had started, Emma chose to end it by sighing heavily and stepping to the side. Which resulted in Regina immediately lunging forward into thin air, and rather comically straight towards Snow who gasped in shock.

 

Snow caught her with a look of concern, her eyes roaming over her dress with a curious tilt of her head as she straightened up with a dumbfounded, “What exactly has been going on since we left this morning?”

 

“I thought this was a family dinner, not a fashion show?” Henry asked sarcastically as he emerged from behind the fridge with a coke in his hand. He waved at his mothers and their counterparts, then at his jeans and light sweater.

 

“Your ancestors dined in ball gowns and tiaras, Henry,” the Queen cheerfully reminded him, and then bestowed a little magic on his wardrobe to make his clothing coordinate. “We prepared a nice meal, and we dressed up. We’re all a family, and we want to do whatever it takes to show that to everyone.” Pointedly directing her remark towards the Charmings, the Queen appraised the somewhat worn cardigan on Snow and the tattered jeans on David. She extended no such magical gifts to them, nothing to make it clear that either of them belonged—yet the Queen eagerly ushered them both into the dining room. 

 

Henry marveled at the new black pants and the matching trendy shirt. He shrugged as he followed his grandparents and placed Neal’s carrier beside his own chair. 

 

Begrudgingly, Regina took up her place at the head of the table, unsurprised to find the Queen poised to sit at the opposite end. Regina would have to stare at herself throughout the meal, it seemed—which she would allow, because that meant fewer chances of locking eyes with Emma. 

 

David noticed Selena in a cradle beside the Queen’s chair and leaned over to admire her. “Wow, she looks so much like Emma did,” he reflected. “But darker, with some of Regina’s features. Can I hold her?”

 

The Queen indulged him, but passed Selena into David’s arms cautiously, as if she trusted he would drop her. She positioned his arms accordingly, and hovered nearby in case of any mishaps. 

 

“I’ve held a baby before,” David muttered, with a good natured grin that was all for Selena, who gazed back up at him with grumpy, furrowing eyebrows. “That’s the same face Emma makes she’s in a bad mood,” he offhandedly remarked, and when he glanced up again, he saw the same expression on Swan and Emma’s faces. 

 

“You can tell this from the three seconds you held her as a baby before cramming her into a wardrobe?” Swan drawled curiously and relaxed into a chair next to the Queen. “You must have a very good memory.” She smirked when Henry situated himself next to his grandfather, simply to see his baby sister, which forced Emma to sit across from her. Judging from the scowl on Emma’s face, it was safe to say she didn’t like it one bit.

 

Sitting proudly, Emma ignored the way the Queen leered at her, and shot Swan a dirty look before muttering gravely, “The sooner we start the meal the sooner we can finish.” She lifted a glass of water to sip, and hoped to hell her headache would calm down so she could make it through the next hour or so unscathed.

 

Henry chuckled under his breath, underestimating the atmosphere in the room due to blissful ignorance and the fact that the one thing everyone had in common was love for him. “I don’t think this is a race to see who eats the fastest.” He stated mischievously. “But if it was I’d totally win. What are we having anyway?”

 

“Yes,” Snow bit out wearily, her smile crumbling around the edges like wilting flower petals. “What exactly are we having? I thought Regina and Emma were cooking the meal.”

 

“I thought I would help out because they seemed to be having a rough day,” the Queen sweetly replied. 

 

With a glint of mischief in her eye, the Queen humbly presented her first course: little puffed pastries filled with unidentifiable, seasoned meat. She waited for Snow to take a big bite, and when it became clear everyone was enjoying it, she bent down to whisper in her enemy’s ear. “It’s stuffed with swan,” the Queen declared. “Just like I often am.” 

 

Snow gagged and her eyes watered miserably, then she coughed to clear her throat of the delicious choking hazard. 

 

Swaying her hips as she made her way around the table, the Queen piled extra appetizers on Regina’s plate. “I trust you’ll enjoy this, Regina,” she lilted. “Eat up.” 

 

The Queen also plied everyone with wine, except for Henry, who received apple juice. 

 

Surprised that the starter was actually good, and not just something odd like a live scorpion, Emma held off on touching her wine, despite the way her fingers itched to wrap around the stem of her glass.

 

The second course appeared on the table soon thereafter, under heavy lidded silver platters. 

 

Six platters contained the roasted quail, but the Queen had prepared a special delicacy for Snow White. She waited until everyone lifted the covers from their plates to gesture towards the end of the table where Snow sat. “I know how fond you are of Blue Jays,” she tittered. “Please, tuck in.” 

 

“Here we go,” Emma sighed, and lifted the wine glass to swallow a mouthful.

 

Henry laughed—a snorted, nervous sound that ended when he understood this wasn’t a joke. “Moms?” He blurted, looking from Regina to Emma, and then expectantly towards the Queen.

 

Swan tipped her head to the side, her face unreadable as Henry failed to look at her.

 

David was first to move, slamming the metal dome back over Snow’s tiny roasted carcass. Sickeningly, it smelled really good, but he wanted to shield his wife from the image of it. “What the hell is going on?” He demanded, deep voiced and hard jawed. “We’re here to get to know you, not so you can torment my wife!”

 

“Relax, it’s just a bit of glamor,” Swan easily lied, and held her hand out for the Queen to take as she sat back down. In truth, Swan was just as blind sided, but she wasn’t about to let anyone else know that. With a flick of her wrist, Snow suddenly had the same as everyone else, and Swan smiled thinly. “No harm done.” She stressed, wondering what else lay in store for them.

 

Everyone appeared to be staring dismally at their plates, as if uncertain whether or not to try the food. Suddenly this family dinner didn’t seem like such a good idea after all.

 

“This would be a good trick for Halloween.” Henry finally cut the tension with a light joke, and braved it to take a bite.

 

“Precisely, Henry, it’s all in good fun.” The Queen cackled, and raised her glass in a silent toast to her family. She peered to the side, over at Emma’s already drained glass of wine, and inconspicuously filled it up to the brim for a second time. 

 

Regina stared menacingly at the Queen, issuing a warning with no more than her intensely fierce eyes. 

 

“I find it amusing that you want to get to know us,” the Queen finally remarked, fixating on David as she cut into her own roasted bird. “As if you’ve forgotten who we are – but I suppose that’s always been the problem, hasn’t it?” Her conversational tone betrayed nothing of her raw emotions. 

 

“It’s a little hard to get to know someone who has made herself our enemy,” David pointed out, and wiped his lips with a cloth napkin as he glanced at Swan. “Or someone who retreated when all we wanted to do was support her. I’m not trying to start an argument by saying all of that, just to be clear. You are part of our family. I truly want to be in your lives, and I know Snow feels the same way. I want to be a good Grandfather to Selena.”

 

Emma reeled from the harshness of David’s words. One hand splayed against the table to steady herself as she caught her breath, while the other clenched around her fork until her knuckles whitened with force. The emotional sucker punch had been directed to Swan, and yet it felt as though it were intended for her—after all, she’d been the Dark One, and this one was, _well,_ a version from the Wish Realm. _Wasn’t she?_ Emma frowned and took a sip of her wine, too distracted by her thoughts to even realize it had been empty moments before.

 

“Someone’s self-righteousness is showing.” Swan lilted, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. “Who exactly do you think I am?” The question was to mock him if the sparkle that danced within her dark eyes were to be believed. It spoke of twisted excitement and a morbid curiosity. Well aware that she was part of Emma, and Emma in turn a part of her, Swan neglected to fill David in on how she came to be. Even the darkness approved of how she toyed with him. Swan smirked as she carried on, “You’ve suffered a lot from memory curses but Emma never split in two, or did you forget that?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to answer. 

 

“You sit here and dare say you want to be a good grandfather to our daughter? When you already know you failed at being a father. I mean look at her,” Swan encouraged, waving her hand towards Emma as though she were some insipid fool. “You ruined a perfectly good daughter trying to make a savior. Are you really going to sit there and berate anyone for pulling away from you, when you sent her to a whole new world moments after she took her first breaths?” Swan smiled slowly, revealing white teeth in a feral display as she sneered, and threw his words back in his face. “I’m not trying to start an argument by saying all of that, _just to be clear._ ”

 

“The Queen would have certainly killed her if we hadn’t!” Snow forlornly whispered, and reached out to take Emma by the hand. “But don’t you think we constantly wonder what might have happened if just _one_ thing had gone differently? I’ve been tortured by the thought that maybe there was some other way we could have defended her.”

 

David balked at the way his wife appeared to be crumbling under pressure from Swan and the entire situation. “There wasn’t. We did all that we could,” he insisted. “It doesn’t make it any less horrible, even now that we’ve moved beyond it.” With his brow ruffled, he glanced downward and sighed heavily. 

 

Regina rolled her eyes and slammed her hand against the table. “This not a conversation any of us needs to be having again!” she hissed through grated teeth. “Don’t you see that the Queen is trying to get into all of your heads? This isn’t a family dinner. It’s turned into a punishment for us all.” 

 

The Queen snickered and grinned deviously as she poured more wine for herself and Emma. “I don’t want to punish anyone,” she chuckled. “Except Swan. She likes it, and she especially likes to dish it out in return. You should see all of the lovely instruments we have for that purpose, and for giving pleasure. She’s just added a new one to our collection, in fact. She found the most delightful little store in town. Hardly noticeable—it’s tucked discreetly away. The saleswoman recommended great products for Swan.” She swung her eyes towards Emma at the perfect time, and lifted the wine bottle to replenish the glass that was already partially empty. “I wonder what gave her the idea that Swan would be interested in them— but I have to say I’m so pleased to see that small businesses are really thriving here.”

 

If the glass hadn’t reached her lips, Emma would have choked on her own tongue, but it had, and so she choked on wine instead. Sucking half a gulp down the wrong tube as she gasped around the mouthful, she knew that the deranged delight in the Queen’s eyes was meant solely for her. 

 

 _Was nothing sacred?_ Emma coughed and sputtered, sending flecks of red tainted saliva flying across her plate like blood. It might as well have been, considering how hard she had to bite her lip about just what store the Queen talked about. A cold sweat began to bead across Emma’s skin, a dew of fear that left her sticky. “As much as we enjoy your displays of insanity, could you at least dial it back when our son is present.” It wasn’t a question so much as quiet snarl as she turned her gaze to Swan, “You can hate us all you want but leave him out of it.”

 

“We never said anything about Henry.” Swan intoned pleasantly, knowing full well that they should have considered his presence sooner rather than later.

 

“Oh cut the crap!” Emma snapped, feeling entirely too lightheaded from the wine. How many glasses had she even had? She couldn’t recall filling it and yet she had to blink quickly to focus. “You know damn well that saying all this shit will affect him and I’ve _had_ it.” She hissed dangerously, eyes narrowed as she glared at them both.

 

Henry chose that moment to push his chair back, his fork clattering to the plate as he sighed heavily, “It’s okay ma,” He said. “One benefit of having Archie as a friend is getting free therapy. Which I’m probably gonna need now.” It was meant to be lighthearted but the heavy silence that followed left everyone uncomfortable. “Yeah so, I’m gonna head over to Granny’s and uh—see if Archie wants to join me for a grilled cheese.”

 

The Queen’s face fell because of her oversight, but she outright refused to admit she had been in the wrong, even if her skin did blanch with regret. “Oh, please,” she chortled. “You’re fifteen years old, Henry. At that age, I had already started looking for a husband, and I was married only three years later to your Great Grandfather.” She never spoke of him at all, let alone in her son’s presence, and Regina’s eyes widened in alarm over this complete change in behavior. 

 

“Henry, there’s money in my purse,” Regina instructed, and waved Henry on as soon he stood up to make his departure. Henry rushed out of the dining room, and when they all heard the sound of the front door swinging shut behind him, Regina fixed a murderous glare on the Queen. “It’s one thing to talk about your private life when in adult company, and quite another to speak openly about it in front of Henry,” she warned. “Watch what you say around my son.”

 

“Henry has unrestricted access to the Internet, and we both know why we’ve spent the last few years purchasing tissues in bulk,” the Queen dully replied, looking displeased over having to defend herself by these means. “Have you either or Emma even bothered to talk to him about sex? I assume not, considering that it’s been so long since either of you have had any.” She tucked her hand under her chin and leaned forward as if dishing all of the juicy gossip. “Then again, last night, you got a little refresher, didn’t you?” 

 

David pressed his face into both of his hands, as if too overwhelmed by the conversation to handle it. 

 

Snow spun towards her daughter, only to verify that the Queen was telling the truth – and then she exhaled, letting out a deeply burdened sigh. 

 

Time felt suddenly slower as all eyes landed back on Emma. Anxiety caused her hands to tremble and her breaths to shorten yet she met her mother’s gaze only to turn towards the Queen with a look so dark it eclipsed Swan’s. Echoes of everything that had been said over the past twenty-four hours ricocheted off the inside of her skull until the sound drowned out the thudding of her heart and she knew, instinctively, that if she so much as tried to explain anything that Regina, that all of them would pick her apart. Vultures ready to feast on her until nothing but insecurities remained.

 

_Not this time._

 

Emma embraced the cold tightening of fear as it laced around her ribcage until it gave way to a calming numbness and clarity. Or maybe it was the wine. “Ever since you came back you keep trying to get under my skin.” She stated slowly, her lips tugging into a peculiar smile. “I’m done playing your game. I’m done giving a damn about what any of you think of me.” She slid her gaze to Regina to add lightly, “which I now know is _very little._ ” Lifting her glass, Emma thoughtfully stroked the stem before taking a small sip to wet her lips.

 

“Is this the part where you get to your point, or shall we have the next course while you work it out?” Swan asked sarcastically, only to suddenly find her tie lodged between her teeth.

 

“ _Shhh._ ” Emma whispered to cut off the growl of anger as Swan pulled the fabric out, “ _I’m talking._ ”

 

The Queen placed a hand on Swan’s arm, just as she swung it up to retaliate. This outburst had been part of the Queen’s machinations all along—the first step in getting Emma into bed with Regina. It made the Queen’s blood pump faster with excitement, and her eyes sparkled in triumph at the rebellion brought on by alcohol and Emma’s whittled down patience. 

 

Emma turned her attention back to the Queen, her stormy gaze looking through her as she announced to the entire table. “You’re right, _your Majesty,_ we did share something intimate last night and if Regina hadn’t decided to tell me how I felt she’d have known that what I want is to be more than friends and co-parents. You both think I’m ashamed that I find her attractive, and have feelings but _I’m not._ ” She bit out savagely. “I know who I am, I’m Emma Swan. Sheriff. Savior. Super fucking gay for Regina Mills, and I’m not keeping it a secret for anyone anymore!”

 

“Emma!” David snapped, his face flushed as he tried to handle all this new information. “I accept you have a lot of emotions but yelling at the dinner table isn’t the best way to share them.”

 

“Oh please,” Emma snorted. “I lived with you guys. I know exactly how frequently you shared your feelings with each other and it sure as hell wasn’t done as quietly as you’d hoped.”

 

If Regina still harbored any anger from what happened the night before or because their daylong argument, it certainly no longer showed. She gazed at Emma with undisguised longing and adoration. From the way she leaned forward and exhaled shakily in appreciation, it was quite clear that Emma had earned herself an all access pass to Regina’s panties. Though before Regina could make any declaration of her own, Snow took control of the conversation.

 

“Emma,” Snow breathed out wearily, with a dismal shake of her head. “We never wanted you to lie to us about how you felt. We just assumed you weren’t ready to date again. The last time we pressured you about that, it didn’t go well. Do you think any of us were unaware of your feelings for Regina? If there was any reason at all that it bothered us, it was because you refused to face it.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding?” Emma spat back incredulously, her eyebrows drawn into an angry line as she faced her mother. “I wasn’t hiding it! For years all you talked about was how I’d settle down and find the right prince but not once did any of you bother saying that it was fine that your little princess might want a Queen instead. When it comes to guys you wouldn’t shut up, but the second you notice I like a woman? Pure silence. The only reason I was worried about saying anything was because for the first time in my life I have a best friend, and I never want to lose her.”

 

When Emma paused to breathe, Swan began to slow clap in the most dismissive way possible. With no trace of humor on her face, Swan seethed, “Congratulations for finally finding your tongue. It was at the bottom of a wine bottle all along.”

 

Emma’s lips twitched at the corners, a flicker of resentment that didn’t fully form. “What’s the matter Swan, upset that the only one hiding anything now is your Queen? Still haven’t gotten your answers as to where she was for all those months, huh? That’s gotta sting.”

 

Laughter bubbled up and frothed on Swan’s lips like poison—the smile that stretched her lips nothing short of primal as she husked maliciously, “If you want to act heartless, Emma, I can make it real.”

 

 

Sneering in return, Emma stood up sharply, her chair scraping against the floor as she slammed her hands onto the table to get into Swan’s face. “Poor Dark One, all that power and it’s still not enough to get what she wants.”

 

Before anyone could blink, Swan’s hand latched around Emma’s arm and pulled her clean across the table. She moved so fast she became a blur that slammed Emma back against the wall with a grin, her forearm pressed against Emma’s throat as she raised her right hand threateningly above her ribcage, ready to plunge inside it as she taunted back. “Poor Savior, the only woman ever inside her is _herself._ ”

 

David shot up from his seat to defend his daughter, but the Queen acted first. She dragged Swan off of Emma and shoved her away before the fight escalated any further. “Come collect what’s yours,” she spat at her counterpart, and then dismissively flicked her eyelashes at Emma. 

 

Regina hurried to restrain her, but Emma lunged towards Swan at the first available opportunity, as soon as the Queen turned her back. “Stop this!” Regina commanded, and she held Emma around the waist to pull her away, although Emma outmatched her in terms of size and strength. 

 

Snow balked at the eruption of tempers before her, and waved her hands in the air frantically to get everyone’s attention. “This night was supposed to be about family bonding, and look what it’s become!” she cried. “A total disaster. I should have known better than to extend an olive branch to you.” She stared at the Queen with a trembling chin, and tucked her cardigan more tightly around herself for comfort. Tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks. “I’ve tried and tried, but it just never works out.”

 

“You think I’m to blame for this?” the Queen blustered, practically shaking as she took a threatening step towards Snow. “All of this is your doing! Don’t you see how you’ve prevented your daughter from being happy? And you condemned Regina to loneliness, too. Do you think she would have ever have told Emma how she felt? Of course not! She knows where she stands in your family. You aren’t bothered by the thought of Emma dating a woman. You’re bothered by the thought of her dating a very _specific woman._ ”

 

Snow grew solemn and hung her head in guilt. “Fine,” she whispered. “It does bother me. Everything just settled down for all of us, and I was worried about losing that again. Regina doesn’t deal with heartbreak well, and I don’t think Emma’s ready for a serious relationship. I’ve always thought that Regina and Emma would make a great couple—I just didn’t think that now was a great time for them to be together.” 

 

“Then when?” Emma bellowed, “I’ve been here for almost _six years_!”

 

Snow dared glance in Emma’s direction, so apologetic and fearful as she spoke candidly. “When you first got here, you were sort of like a teenager. It’s only recently that I’ve seen real growth in you, Emma.” 

 

Emma’s fury exploded forth like a building being demolished, loud and thunderous as she spun to face her family with disgust. “We were all different when I first got here! Jesus Christ, you were sleeping with Whale and stalking David, and he was perfectly content to have an affair, and don’t you dare say you were cursed because you chose to be who you were even if you couldn’t remember the past!” Emma’s battle with Swan had been forgotten as she paced the length of the dining table, her hands balled into fists as she hissed, “So pushing me towards Neal and that drunken pirate bastard was fine, but not the mother of my son?”

 

She turned to Regina when she felt her eyes sting with hot tears she refused to let fall in front of her parents and hiccuped back a sob. But just as she’d moved towards her, the Queen intercepted as if to offer comfort and Emma pulled back. “And _you,_ ” She snapped, overwhelmed with such intense emotions fueled by wine. “Thinking you’re so smart and constantly toying with us, acting like I’ve been keeping a big secret when you’re the one hiding the truth and causing chaos to deflect from it! You’re so concerned with me and Regina but you’ve been lying to Swan about everything!” Emma raved, so wound up that she couldn’t control herself or the way she raised her voice. “What happened back in the Wish Realm? Why did you leave Swan for almost a year only to bring her with you, like she’s on some fucked up family vacation? Just what the hell did you do for all those months?”

 

The Queen paused with her hand precariously stretched towards Emma. “You . . . “ she croaked, unable to get the words passed her suddenly dry lips. “You kept me prisoner. Princess Emma did. In the highest tower which overlooks the courtyard—the same room where I lived for so many years as Queen, but this time in a cage. To protect me, you said. To prevent anyone else but you from touching me. And oh, you _did_ have your reasons. Queen Snow tried to marry you off to a much older King, because she was desperate, and the political climate in the Wish Realm was unstable. But like the realm itself, you had also become so unstable—at first like a little girl, who I wished to protect—and then so very different, so very twisted. When I returned searching for Swan, I put myself completely at the mercy of your mother, because. . . I thought we could still be a family, but as Snow herself has said, it never works out. I had to give up my magic. So I did the only thing I could think to do to save you, which your mother emphatically encouraged: I offered myself to your suitor, and he accepted. But _you_ —you didn’t accept it. You made sure that everyone knew I was _yours._ Coming back to Storybrooke was an act of desperation, but it’s the only safe place I’ve ever known, so where else were we to go?” 

 

The Queen began to cry, the tears flooding her eyes even as she grinned madly—flecks of saliva clinging to her teeth as she held on, forcing herself to smile for all she was worth. Then she threw up her hands, cloaking herself in a blanket of magic that protected her from view, from judgment and the agony of her honesty. The magic concealed her as she glimpsed the unadulterated rage and pain in Swan’s face, and she fled from it, far too emotionally undone and frightened to stay there a second longer. 

 

Horror kept Emma rooted to the spot. Mouth agape and stomach churning, her eyes sought out Regina’s. “I—” 

 

_How could she do that? How could any part of her ever do that to someone she loved?_

 

Even as the Dark One Emma had never been that depraved. “I’m—” Everything she’d consumed suddenly rushed up her throat, and she ran to the kitchen, barely making it in time before it expelled from her with heaving force to splatter in the empty sink.

 

Of all the things she considered, not once, not ever, had Swan thought of that scenario.The tendons in her neck pulled taut as she let out an infuriated, disturbing roar that sounded both pained and demonic. The Darkness echoed her suffering and doubled her rage as she frantically began shouting, “Where are the items you use to leave this place?” She grabbed David by the front of his shirt, her eyes wide and wild. “Beans, trinkets, wands, hats, portals?” She demanded, the voices in her head all screaming for blood. _Find her. Stop her. Beat her. Break her. Torture. Kill. Murder._

 

“We don’t have any!” David blurted, still stunned by the revelation that rocked everyone to their core.

 

“You’re useless!” Swan screamed into his face. She shoved David roughly, and he stumbled backwards into Snow. “I’ll find my own way,” she vowed darkly, her fist suddenly clenching around her dagger as she strode forward.

 

“How?” Snow gasped fearfully, pushing David out of harm's way as she followed after Swan.

 

Emma returned looking as pale as her counterpart, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Whoa, hold on.” Without thought she grabbed Swan’s arm and tugged her around. “What the hell are you going to do?”

 

Swan leaned forward with a deadly glare and announced seriously, “I’m going to kill myself.”

 

“What if _she_ isn’t _you,_ ” Regina hoarsely asked, with her hands on her hips and a soft shudder going through her shoulders. She could never believe that any version of Emma would lock her away, except a twisted and malignant shell born of a disastrous wish. “Out of all of us, I’m the only one who traveled to the Wish Realm, and actually interacted with anyone before Henry wrote his revisions. None of your alter egos were anything like what the Queen described. It’s very possible that Emma left behind a little piece of her in Princess Emma, and maybe that piece became Swan. What if the Princess who remained was nothing without her? What if the rest of the world and all of its inhabitants were just. . . distortions? That is the essence of wishes. They always warp and twist whatever they touch. Wishes _never_ go as planned. The outcomes are sometimes unrecognizable, and they are almost always awful.” 

 

Regina moved towards the baby, and everyone parted around her uneasily. “The Queen will heal from this,” she muttered, although she shut her eyes and batted her lashes to chase away tears of self-doubt. “Right now, Swan, the best thing you can do is take care of your daughter. Don’t overreact, and _whatever you do,_ don’t go back to that damnable realm. For better or worse, you and the Queen belong here. _With us._ ”


	11. Chapter 11

All rationality vacated Swan the way crowds of people exit a burning building. 

 

The Darkness screamed for action — loud and unforgiving alarms that intensified and screeched through her mind until her jaw jutted out and her lower teeth were bared in animalistic, all consuming rage. Magic crackled, forming wild and erratic sparks that shot from her hands to match her fluctuating emotions. 

 

“Does she look like she’s going to heal?” Swan snapped frantically in response at the idiocy of the group. They were a collection of imbeciles intent on doing nothing but waiting out a storm of uncertainty. She wouldn’t be one of them. 

 

Lips twisting into a sneer, Swan clutched her dagger close to her side as she seethed, “I don’t give a damn who or what that wishverse Princess is, she’s going to die by my hands!”

 

“Regina’s right!” Snow affirmed, and stepped quickly into Swan’s path to block her from leaving. “You belong here with us! Not back there.”

 

“Offering me your camaraderie now isn’t going to work.” Swan warned gruffly, the glint in her eyes as sharp as the blade she wielded. “Get the hell out of my way, or—”

 

“Murder isn’t going to help you or the Queen!” David boomed, his shoulders squared as he strode over to stand by his wife and Regina.

 

The serious determination on their faces evoked a disturbed laugh from Swan—a broken, hollow sound that died as it fell from her lips. “Look at you all,” Swan hissed bitterly, flecks of saliva coating her lips as she mocked, “So very gallant. So very stupid.” The humor in her tone was at odds with the vacant dark pools of her eyes. “The Princess locked the Queen in a cage for months. She stole her from me! Prevented me from being with her as she carried my child!” Swan screamed, her face filled with raw emotion that blazed a trail of salty tears down her cheeks. She paced with frenetic energy, a barely contained whirlwind that threatened to swallow everything in its wake. 

 

“We all knew something was wrong but none of us thought it would be like that!” Swan spat, the full force of the shock seeping into her bones as she reeled back. “Every time she looks at me—sees my face—she’s reminded of everything she went through.” It was a harrowing revelation that explained the Queen’s reaction during the rekindling of their intimacy. “Princess Emma robbed us of our happiness! I can’t change that, but I can make sure the Queen never has to fear that bitch ever again. If any of you try to stop me, I’ll go through you,” she vowed with a snarl. “Now get the hell out of my way.”

 

Emma had vanished in the confrontation, and suddenly appeared behind Swan. “Regina, now!” She yelled, and snared her dark counterpart by fixing the cuff that blocked all magic around her wrist.

 

Swan instinctively shoved Emma off of her, and sent her tumbling roughly into the cabinet as she tried to pry the cuff off. “That’s the last time you’ll play savior with me.” Swan threatened, her hand raised with the dagger pointing towards Emma.

 

David impulsively shoved Swan out of the way and steadied his daughter. At that precise moment, Regina subdued Swan with a spell that required the utmost precision of her magic. Her dark blue energy drifted over Swan and dragged her down into a dreamless sleep. 

 

“I hate to do this to her, but there was no other choice,” Regina sighed. 

 

The last time Regina used that spell was on the Lost Boys while they were all stuck in Neverland, and it turned out to be much more strenuous to cast it on a Dark One. Regina twisted her arm to clear it of a sudden tension that seized her muscles. She bent down to check on Swan, and then removed her from the dining room in a soft cloud of protective magic. 

 

Snow reached out and caressed the purple drift as it carried Swan away. “Where did you put her?” she asked. 

 

“Upstairs, in my bedroom,” Regina replied, and then frowned as she turned towards the babies that miraculously slept through the whole incident. Perhaps they had already gotten accustomed to the constant chaos in their lives. “Emma, why don’t you go up and sit with Swan?” she asked. “I’ll join you in a minute. I suggest we find some of way of restraining her until the Queen returns and talks some sense into her.” 

 

Emma ripped her arm away from David and left the dining room without glancing back or saying a word to anyone. David frowned and stared at his own outstretched hand. 

 

“I’ll make some phone calls,” Snow offered, although she cast a worried sidelong glance at Emma’s back. “Maybe the Queen went somewhere in town.“ She pulled out her cell phone as David hovered uncertainly, as if on the verge of going after Emma. 

 

“You both need to talk to your daughter,” Regina firmly insisted, squinting at both Snow and David as she attempted to reason with them. “If you really want to help, please talk to Emma before Swan wakes up. Set things right with her, and then you can stick around to babysit. The Queen will be fine.”

 

Snow’s tense forehead showed off the first signs of her oncoming protest. “No, Regina, she’s not fine!” she stressed. “Do you really expect all of us to stay here, and leave her to deal with all of this on her own?”

 

Regina raised her chin to silently confirm that she did, but then hunched her shoulders defensively. “She’ll be okay, but Emma won’t be,” she argued. 

 

Snow looked determined to start a dispute, but she pressed her lips together and huffed out a breath through her nose. “We’ll talk with Emma. Then we’ll take Selena home with us, and we’ll pick up Henry on our way.” She explained with a clipped tone, her no-nonsense gaze piercing into Regina’s as she added authoritatively, “But you two better find the Queen, because whether you want to face it or not, she needs you.” With that said, Snow about turned and followed after Emma, leaving a flustered David to hurry after her.

 

Emma paced the length of Regina’s room, her eyes burning from the tears she refused to let fall. Swan’s rage had been overpowering and yet Emma couldn’t help but feel it burn brightly within herself, too. What if Regina was wrong? What if this was her? How could any part of her do something so messed up? Her stomach twisted in disgust and she felt her throat clamp shut to resist the urge to vomit. She hadn’t realized it before—all the taunting and flaunting had blinded her to it, but in the all consuming outrage that had shaken Swan, it finally became apparent that this version of her was in love with the Queen. Swan ached and pined and blamed herself for not being able to protect the Queen when she needed it the most, which meant Swan would be particularly volatile the second she woke up. With any luck that wouldn’t be for a few hours.

 

“Emma…” Snow softly called, poking her head around the door before venturing into the room with David. “I’m sorry for what I said. It came out wrong, I—“

 

“Save it.” Emma cut her off with a sigh, and stilled in her pacing to eye her parents warily. “I think I’ve had enough revelations for one night.”

 

Snow looked forlorn, yet pressed on regardless, as that was her way. “You need to understand,” she stressed quietly. “I wasn’t trying to keep you apart. You both love so fiercely. I wanted to make sure that when you both decided to explore those feelings, it would be lasting, so that neither of you would have to face heartbreak again. I was wrong to stay silent, and not to encourage you to follow your heart sooner. I see that now. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel ashamed of who you are.”

 

Despite her best efforts, a stuttered sob caught in Emma’s throat, and a cascade of thick, fat teardrops began to roll down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.

 

“We’ll give you space for now. We know you have a lot to deal with.” David said, and strode forward to wrap his arms around his daughter and pull her into a hug. It warmed his soul to feel it reciprocated, however brief it may have been before Emma pulled away. “Call us if you need us, and please, keep us updated. You might hate us right now, but we love you and we worry. About all of you.” He added, and inclined his head towards the stairs to make it clear he included Regina.

 

With a lingering and sad look, Snow bit her lip and left the room with her husband, allowing Emma the time she obviously needed.

 

Regina hesitated on the threshold of the room with her arms crossed defensively in front of her, and waited until Charming and Snow exited before she entered. She cursorily glanced at Dark Swan — then focused wholly on Emma’s tear streaked face, and her red-rimmed green eyes that were so full of apology and sorrow. “None of this is your fault,” Regina snapped out, much more forcefully than she planned. “I caused this entire mess by trying to destroy part of myself I hate. That was a mistake - but I know there’s a way to fix it. The Queen and Swan can still lead happy lives here in Storybrooke. And you and I can figure out our relationship in our own good time.”

 

Emma wiped at her face irritably with shaky hands and turned to brush her hair out of her face. It was bad enough that Regina had seen her lose her shit; she couldn’t face her looking so broken. 

 

“Can we skip the part where we both fight to take all the blame, and just focus on the carnage in front of us for once?” Emma asked rhetorically, and stumbled towards the master bathroom, her sight blurry. Whether or not it was from alcohol or tears, she couldn’t be certain, but she washed her face with hot water regardless and hoped to hell that it took away the splotchy mascara that had clumped on her lashes. “Waterproof my ass.” She grumbled, before snagging a towel and striding back into the room. “We can’t keep Swan knocked out forever and we have no idea where the Queen went, so what do we do? Lock Swan in a cell until we find the Queen? We can’t just leave her here. She’ll saw her arm off to get rid of the cuff.”

 

Regina circled around the foot of the bed and then situated herself on the mattress beside Swan. “I have no intentions of leaving her,” she stressed and gestured down at the cuff before gingerly prying it loose from Swan’s wrist. “Swan is going to stay because we are going to have a rational and levelheaded conversation with her. She has to learn to trust us. She’s not going to do that unless we first extend our trust to her.” 

 

While Emma paced restlessly around the bedroom and tried to conceal her hurt, Regina massaged the underside of Swan’s hand and gave comfort where she could. “The Queen doesn’t have many places to go,” Regina added. “She’s either at my vault, or Zelena’s house. When Swan demonstrates a little more self-control, we can all go and look for her. My plan will work.” 

 

“Babysitting isn’t exactly a plan.” Emma bit out, irrational anger coating her tone as she watched the affectionate way Regina doted on Swan. “She’s out cold, but the Queen isn’t, and she’s traumatized and vulnerable. Unless you’re going to wake Swan with smelling salts we’re wasting time.” 

 

It didn’t occur to her that once Regina removed the cuff, Swan’s dark magic would not only return, it would purge the magic used to sedate her.

 

Like a light being switched on, Swan’s eyes opened and she sat up so suddenly that Emma jumped. “You...” Swan hissed, and for a brief moment they both froze before Emma’s eyes darted toward the bedside table where the Dark One dagger lay.  
Quick as a flash, they both lunged for it. Emma grasped it just in time to yell, “Wait!” and with a resounding growl, Swan froze, arm outstretched and eyes filled with a murderous rage.

 

“We need to talk to you,” Emma rambled, her eyes darting back to Regina as if seeking corroboration. “And we can’t do that if you’re on a rampage.” She added, oblivious to the fact that Swan had yet to move. “So instead of destroying me or anyone else just sit there and listen for once.” 

 

Swan shifted to a seated position with a glower, her hands balling the sheets into her fists to shred.

 

“We’re not the enemy,” Emma concluded, despite the jealousy that swirled inside her stomach. “Nobody in town is.”

 

“We just want to help you,” Regina insisted. She reached out to grasp Swan’s hand in reassurance, and to prevent the total destruction of her bed sheets. “Especially with the Queen. Do you really think she’s going to feel better if you run off to seek revenge? Being apart will only cause more pain. She needs you right now. Whatever might have happened, the Queen is a survivor and she will get through this difficult time with you by her side.” 

 

Regina flashed a dim but diplomatic smile, one that was so fake it hurt her teeth. 

 

For the benefit of both Emma and Swan, Regina would have to separate herself from any intense emotions that threatened to surface, and so far she thought she had been managing it quite nicely. “I already have some idea of where the Queen might have gone,” she stressed, and flicked a strand of hair behind her ear out of nervous habit. "But before we go looking for her, why don't you tell us anything else you remember about the wishverse? Tell us exactly what happened to you. The more information we have, the better we can deal with all of this together."

 

At a delay, Regina swung around to face Emma and noticed the dagger still firmly clutched in her hand. “Emma,” she intoned and glanced down at the blade. 

 

Flinching at the sight of her fist clenched around the handle, Emma passed the dagger over to Regina and rubbed her palm down her leather dress in an effort to rid herself of the stain she imagined coating it.

 

“What happened to me is nothing compared to what happened to her, and swapping stories about it isn’t going to make me feel calmer.” Swan sneered, her glare shifting from Emma as she turned to eye Regina curiously. “Besides,” She drawled, “I already told you what happened to me. You can fill the Savior in later.” The words dripped acerbically from Swan’s tongue, and she rose to her feet in an unnaturally swift motion that reeked of power.

 

Though loath to admit it, Swan understood that Regina had a point. If she up and vanished right now to seek revenge, she would be hurting the Queen and their daughter by splitting them up once again. With a disdainful look, Swan tipped her head back and grudgingly muttered, “I may have overreacted earlier. I won’t do it again. Where is she?”

 

“That’s your idea of an apology?” Emma scoffed, then caught the warning scowl that Regina sent her way. “Whatever.” She huffed, and with a wave of her hand changed out of her dress into her skinny jeans and a nice, soft sweater that might have been a tad see through.

 

Regina sensed the restlessness in Swan, rivaled only by Emma’s anxious energy. She hugged her ribs uncertainly and then wandered towards the window to peer out at the darkness. “The Queen only has two places she can go,” Regina softly explained. “If she wants to be alone, she’ll be at my vault. Otherwise she’s with my sister. If she went to Zelena’s, then we’ll all need to be a little more cautious. She’s obviously in a vulnerable state right now, and I’m not sure that she’ll want to see any of us — or that she’ll even know how to respond to our care and concern.” Dropping her voice to a lower and soothing register, she made a suggestion that neither Emma nor Swan would like. “Maybe you should both stay here and let me talk to her first. Or perhaps – we should stay put and see if she returns on her own.”

 

“No.” Swan’s low rumble conveyed her feelings succinctly.

 

“You’re not going alone,” Emma hurriedly spat, ignoring the way Swan tipped her head in her direction. “Either we all go or none of us go. There’s no in-between here, Regina.”

 

Swan’s dark eyes trailed down her counterpart’s new outfit. The blatant way Emma avoided looking at her amused Swan enough to make her act on impulse. She stepped slowly towards Regina, exuding the confidence of a predator stalking towards prey. “Mirror magic.” She lilted softly, pausing precariously close to Regina. “Why don’t we use it to see if she’s at the vault, and if she isn’t, then we’ll know she’s at Zelena’s and the three of us can wait here.” Lifting her hand, Swan placed it delicately on Regina’s forearm. “Together.”

 

Emma felt a twinge of pain through her jaw, where the muscles had tensed from how hard she clenched her teeth together. In all fairness it seemed like a solid plan, but the comfortable way Swan and Regina acted towards one another left her on edge. She felt itchy in her own skin seeing them so friendly, and despite knowing that she was evidently losing her mind, she blurted, “Yeah well if you end up staying the night you can take the guest bedroom.” The surge of immaturity was no doubt helped by the wine she had drank, and some part of her knew that. “I’m going to make coffee.” She announced haughtily, and stomped out the room before she said anything else fueled by her erratic emotions.

 

Yearning and desperation made Regina take a long stride towards Emma, and yet she faltered as Swan continued to hold onto her arm. The gentleness and familiarity of the touch stopped Regina in her tracks, and she fell back towards the mirror to check for the Queen at her vault. 

 

 

 

 

All of the Queen’s raw energy took her up into the atmosphere, and across the sleepy little town of her design, until she landed in her sister’s modest farmhouse on the edge of the forest. 

 

The Queen slid onto the floor, and tucked her arms and chin into her chest as she bit back a sob that came from her gut. The dip in her throat quivered as she took a ragged breath. 

 

In the nursery, Zelena quietly hummed a lullaby that masked the sound of the Queen’s breakdown — her grief simmering to a steady boil only to recede again under the lid of self-control she knew well how to use on herself. 

 

The Queen hunched forward and gulped once for air, then tightened her lip and dashed her tears away with a fast flick of her hand. The tiniest tickle of her magic emerged from her fingertips as she touched up her face makeup, and practiced a devious smile that wavered once before achieving full brightness. 

 

In the time it took her sister to put little Robin to bed, the Queen prepared herself for their reunion. She reclined in a rocking chair, until it became clear that Zelena had no intentions of coming back into the kitchen. Then the phone rang, and the Queen drew near to the bedroom door to eavesdrop with the added assistance of a little magic.

 

“Is she there with you?” Snow asked, after offering only a shortened explanation of what had taken place at Regina’s house.

 

“Unless she’s hidden herself in a cupboard, she’s not here,” Zelena replied, visibly upset by the news as she bustled around her bedroom and tied up her robe. 

 

The Queen stepped into view and placed a finger over her lips. She appeared solemn but indifferent—requesting a favor from Zelena without pleading.

 

Zelena caught sight of her and narrowed her eyes in worry, then breathed out a lie. “I need to feed my daughter, but then I can help you look for the Queen. I’ll pop over to Regina’s vault to look and I’ll let you know what I find.” She clicked off the phone and crossed her arms as she noticed the manic glow in the Queen’s face. 

 

The Queen caressed herself with her magic, discarding her dinner outfit and replacing it with a plush red robe. “Mind if I take the guest room for a few days?” she asked. “I figured we can spend some time together – do some catching up – “ 

 

“You’re staying here? What about your own home and family? You have a daughter, and a partner apparently.” Zelena made her announcements with a flutter of her eyelashes that gave away her lack of surprise. “I know about what happened to you in the wishverse. That was Snow on the phone. Did you expect to come here and hide away from it all?”

 

“With all due respect, Zelena, you have no idea what that place was like, or why I’ve chosen to come here,” the Queen sternly replied, sounding more like Regina than she ever had. “Snow doesn’t have a clue, either—“ 

 

Zelena sighed and began to yank down the covers on her bed. “You’re going to have to face everyone eventually. I’m not going to turn my own sister out, or tell them you’re here, but I really don’t wish to take sides again between you and Regina—“ 

 

“You won’t have to do that,” the Queen softly insisted, and watched Zelena climb into bed with growing anxiety. She had hoped to direct and prolong the conversation, to delay sleep for as long as possible—to put off going into the guest room and slipping into loathsome thoughts. 

 

As soon as Zelena completely settled, the Queen went over to the bed and timidly folded down the blanket on that side. Then she curled up in the spot next to her sister, and turned over to glance at her. 

 

Zelena could only stare back at her, perplexed and curious. “Regina, are you alright?” she gently asked. 

 

The Queen tried to hide her true feelings with a grin, but the flimsy thing fell away and her bottom lip blubbered traitorously as her sister spoke to her like a person instead of a problem. 

 

If there was one thing the Mills sisters had in common, it was their aversion to feelings. Yucky, debilitating things that more often than not got in the way. Well, most of them, anyway. Anger certainly fueled them, if their histories were anything to go by—and sure, under all that hate resided a waterfall of hurt they’d tried to brick off from the personas they projected…

 

Zelena sighed heavily and eyed Regina in the dim light. An awkward silence descended upon them, in part due to the mutual fear that had taken root for different reasons. 

 

“Just because I’m the older sibling doesn’t mean I’m any good at being a big sister,” Zelena stated bluntly, though the underlying emotions that carried in her voice alluded to how she wanted to be. For a long moment, she searched Regina’s eyes and chewed the inside of her lip thoughtfully before finally reaching under her pillow with a warning, “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll set every one of your dresses on fire, and you’ll never see him again.”

 

The him in question was a small, tattered looking green frog with big eyes and soft fluff that looked decades old. Zelena stroked her hand over him affectionately before passing him towards Regina. “His name is Frig,” She said quietly, as though introducing a person. “Sometimes holding him while I sleep helps to keep my mind from conjuring up things of the past. Do not drool on him.”

 

“I don’t want your silly old toy,” the Queen sneered, although she claimed the little frog with force, and examined him critically before tucking him under her arm. “He’s filthy, and cuddling with a stuffed frog is pathetic.” She tried to keep up her cold and cruel exterior, but her act crumbled yet again as she flipped onto her side. Her eyes swam with tears and she carelessly tossed the toy back to Zelena. “I don’t need you to comfort me. That isn’t why I came here. All I want is some peace and quiet.”

 

But she did want something more than that – although she shut her eyes stubbornly and refused to acknowledge it. 

 

 

 

 

Across town, Emma stood with her hip against the kitchen counter and a mug of coffee in one hand. She held it close to her lips, inhaling the scent as she stared out the large window to the darkness that had engulfed the garden. She wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been standing there, but it was long enough for her mother to send a text saying that the Queen wasn’t at Zelena’s. The sound of chattering pulled her from her thoughts like a child tugging at her sleeve, and she turned to watch Regina and Swan stroll in.

 

“She isn’t at the vault.” The clipped way it fell from Swan’s lips held undertones of disappointment, though none of it showed on her face. With a wave of her hand she carelessly concluded, “So she must be at Zelena’s.”

 

Emma snorted into her mug. “Wrong.” She muttered with a shake of her head, and took a large gulp before continuing. “Snow texted. She already called Zelena and the Queen isn’t there.”

 

Swan frowned, and shared a look with Regina that wordlessly communicated their thoughts. “Obviously Zelena is lying.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Emma sat her coffee down and turned to scrutinize them both. “Why?” She asked, though she never bothered to wait for an answer. “Because out of the two places you both assume she is, she isn’t there?” She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Why would she go to the places she knows you’d look for her if she wants to be alone?”

 

Swan smirked, a condescending slant to her lips that did nothing but piss Emma off. Which was exactly the point. Why admit she was worried when Swan could just distract herself with mindless annoyance? “I had no idea we were talking to an expert on the Queen’s behavior. Please, enlighten us, since you know so much.”

 

“I used to find people for a living.” Emma snapped back. “And I know that the first place you’d look is the last place someone running would go.”

 

Regina poured herself a cup of coffee, and took a long and introspective sip. “With all due respect, Emma, I don’t run,” she argued. “The Queen is hurting, but this isn’t going to break her. That said. . . your mother is concerned enough to mobilize this entire town to search for her, and that’s the last thing we need. So if you want to lead us, and you have any idea where to start, we should head out.”

 

Regina glanced sharply between Emma and Swan, and frowned disapprovingly over their escalating tension. “You both really need to work on your self-directed anger. Not that I’m one to talk, but if we don’t want to chase the Queen off, we need be a little more subdued—”

 

Laughter might not have been the response Regina expected to elicit, and yet it was what she got from Emma. “Wait, what? You might not leave town, Regina, but you poof off every time you feel vulnerable or upset. If that’s not running, I don’t know what is.”

 

The glare that Regina sent her way sobered Emma up enough to compose herself. “I know exactly where to start.” She stated confidently, “With you.”

 

She strode with purpose towards Regina and grabbed her hand firmly. “Don’t move.” Emma instructed, and with a flick of her wrist, produced a pin in her free hand, which she promptly used to stab the tip of Regina’s finger. “Blood magic.” She said easily. “This will lead us straight to her.”

 

Swan cocked her head, the corners of her lips tugging downwards. Nodding, she allowed her dark magic to unfurl enough to bring forth a town map and splayed it across the kitchen island. Then carefully, she took Regina’s hand, and squeezed a droplet of blood onto it.

 

Regina waited for her blood to form a helpful trail, but instead it just trickled and pooled at the center of the parchment before taking off in erratic directions. “I figured this would happen,” she admitted, and reached for a napkin to stop the flow of blood from her finger. “There are spells that can block others from using blood magic to locate you. In fact, they can block off the flow of magical energies more generally, and even shroud a person’s magical signature in some cases. We’re going to have to resort to old-fashioned methods to find the Queen.” 

 

“It’s almost ten at night. What do you want to do, knock on doors and ask if they’ve seen you lately?” Emma drawled sarcastically. A bitterness coated her tongue from the way her plan had fizzled out and she felt at a loss for what to do next, despite her blustering. “If you really think she’s at Zelena’s then use the mirror to search again.” At the curious look from Swan, Emma shrugged angrily, her hands flapping in the process. “Well, at least it’ll narrow down the search.”

 

With a look of pity, Swan wondered how this version of her ever got anything accomplished. She wore a badge and a savior status, but she certainly made things unnecessarily harder on herself. 

 

“We could just go there and see for ourselves.” The dry way Swan enunciated each word made it seem as though Emma were a simpleton. The brief flicker of rage in her counterpart’s eyes caused Swan to smirk. 

 

“We can’t just show up at Zelena’s. She has a kid!” Emma snapped, her voice rising in pitch before she caught herself. She hated how easily Swan riled her, how effortlessly this leathered up doppleganger had gotten close to Regina. Another pang of jealousy caught her between the ribs and she sucked in a stuttered breath before adding hoarsely, “And what if the Queen is there, huh? You think she’s going to want to talk to us right now? Try thinking before you jump the gun on this.”

 

"We’re wasting time arguing,” Regina chastised, and solved the debate by encircling them all in her magic and landing them back in front of the floor length mirror in her bedroom. She peered intently into the mirror until its reflective surface shimmered and changed, creating another window into Zelena’s home. The living room was empty, and with a disgruntled scrunch of her face, Regina flicked her hand and the view changed to the bedroom. “Ha!” Regina triumphantly pointed. “She’s there. I knew it. She was just underneath a blanket.”

 

In the dim light it was hard to make out, but under the blankets were Zelena and the Queen, with their backs to one another.

 

“Sleeping.” Emma added, and it was lost on her how Swan tipped her head to the side just as she did, observing the slumbering Queen with concern and curiosity.

 

“So now what?” The question was so quiet that the uncertainty became unnoticeable in Swan’s voice. She wanted to whisk the Queen back home to the safety of their bed. Not leave her at Zelena’s and hope for the best. Yet, to intrude while they rested would cause a tension Swan didn’t wish to create.

 

The image faded away and the mirror reflected the three of them standing in the hallway, each equally perplexed for vastly different reasons.

 

“We wait until morning, and if she doesn’t come back we go get her.” It pained Emma to say it for no other reason than knowing Swan would be staying the night at Regina’s place. Which meant the three of them would be stuck under one roof. She could feel Regina’s eyes burning into her, and she shrugged as if to lift the sensation from her skin.

 

Swan smirked at the obvious discomfort that settled over Emma, and quirked a brow. “Are you proposing a sleepover?” She lilted, with a gleam in her dark eyes.

 

“No.” Emma spat back, hating that in some disturbed way that it was exactly what was happening. “What are you expecting us to do, play jenga and watch a movie?” She snidely retorted, regretting it the moment she saw Swan smile.

 

“If you two behave and play nicely with each other, maybe,” Regina teased, and stood with her hands on her hips as she considered the challenge in front of her. “I’m going to put on my pajamas and pour myself a drink. Join me?” She glided away to her closet and retrieved her steel blue pajamas and matching slippers. 

 

Just when both Emma and Swan were most intently focused on her, and expecting her to carelessly change in front of them, Regina snapped her fingers and dressed herself with magic. Smoothing her hands down over her pajama top and legs, she smirked at the identical expressions on Emma and Swan’s faces. “Meet me downstairs,” she suggested, and then went to pour herself a mixed drink that was heavy on the alcohol. 

 

It set Emma’s teeth on edge that Swan tried to ogle Regina when she already had the Queen. Using her elbow to push by her, Emma moodily stomped over to the closet and pulled out the pair of pink, plaid pajamas that belonged to her in New York and had mysteriously found residence in Regina’s wardrobe. She clutched them fondly and made her way to the bathroom to change, much to Swan’s amusement.

 

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.” Swan drawled, and slipped out of her clothes with as much ease as a snake shedding its skin.

 

Emma grimaced, and averted her eyes as though she were in a room with a pure stranger, not a version of herself. “You’re such an asshole.” She grumbled.

 

“A hot one.” Swan added, sauntering toward the wardrobe to flaunt her naked form.

 

“Urgh.” Emma grunted, and slammed the bathroom door quickly to change. When she came back out, Swan was thankfully dressed in black silk pajamas. 

 

“You waited for me?” Emma slowly asked with a curious frown on her face. 

 

“Only to see how ridiculous you look in those.” Nothing would ever be funnier than messing with the savior, Swan was sure of it. Which was why she added flippantly, “On a scale of one to ten, you’re about a twelve.” She concluded, and strolled out of the room with a smirk.

 

Emma hurried after her, and all but fell down the stairs trying to keep up. They both appeared in the kitchen at the same time.

 

Regina drank deeply from her glass when she saw them and tried her best not to snort derisively. “Help yourselves to a drink,” she offered, but she was the one to dole out ice cubes into two glasses and fix a cocktail for each Emma. She poured herself a double and quietly rationalized it because she had to deal with the two of them. Emma and Swan seemed to be waiting on her to dictate how their night would go. 

 

In the end, Regina led them into the living room and made herself cozy in the center of the couch with a blanket draped over her lap. She chose to sit in the middle seat to prevent Swan and Emma from sitting together; it occurred to her that they were likely to pick at each other like siblings. 

 

For a distraction, Regina turned on the television and selected a show with brief video clips of people doing stupid things. She then reached for her reading glasses and a book, altogether determined to avoid the sensitive topic of the Queen or any chance of argument between them. 

 

If Emma had had it her way, Regina would have been at the side, and she would have sat in the middle. The thought lingered with her as she peered around Regina to glare at Swan, who didn’t bother to look in her direction. She lifted her drink and then gagged at the disgusting fizzy liquid that she was forced into swallowing. “What the hell is this?” Emma sputtered, aghast that Regina would give her something so vile.

 

“Seltzer water.” Swan deviously lilted, leaning back to eye her counterpart with a smirk. She waved her hand to indicate she had used magic to switch the drinks around. “After all that wine you had, I thought I’d do you a favor.” She raised her own cocktail as if to toast Emma’s idiocy, and took a sip, moaning low in her throat with enjoyment out of pure spite. “You make a wonderful drink, Regina.” 

 

“I’ll do you a favor.” Emma muttered and glowered back, only to bristle as Swan cozied up to Regina. 

 

“What are you reading?” Swan asked and subtly leaned even closer. 

 

Emma snatched the controller off of the table to change the channel to something far more befitting her mood. A horror movie.

 

If Regina noticed Emma’s ever growing jealousy, she did nothing to acknowledge it and she certainly chose not to discourage Swan from getting comfortable with her. “A novel that I thought was going to be more lighthearted, but it’s turned out to be a much darker story,” she explained. “It’s about a girl who is born with magical abilities, and her father who raises her to compete against young man who has been trained to develop gifts of his own. I’m not sure I like it.” 

 

The book sounded contrived, and the look Swan gave in response said as much. “I much prefer the kind of tale where the woman is in charge of her own destiny.”

 

Regina glanced up at the television in time to see the female lead run and scream. Only then did she turn towards Emma with a disdainful look. “Is something the matter?” she asked, but the bad horror movie actress screamed again. Regina glared at the screaming moron as if she was actually present, and in mortal jeopardy of being targeted with a fireball. 

 

“If horror movies were real, I’d be the killer,” Regina announced. “Anyone who screams like that deserves to be permanently silenced. Can we turn the volume down before this idiot completely deafens me?”

 

Emma sighed heavily. “You have endless rooms Regina. If you want to read then why sit in front of the TV?” 

 

Even as she protested, Emma turned the volume down, silently thinking of Swan being hacked to pieces as she turned the station over.

 

“If you’re bored with your book, we could put on a different movie.” Swan casually remarked, only to glance towards Emma as she added. “Preferably one without all that shrillness.”

 

Regina plucked off her reading glasses and shut her book, then reached for the remote to shut off the TV. “Why don’t we do something to lessen the tension in the room?” she demanded, but then realized how her question might be interpreted. 

 

“Not like that,” Regina emphasized.

 

A sly smile curled Swan’s lips, and her eyes sparkled darkly with an abundance of ideas as to just how they might manage that, even though she had no intention of touching Regina. “Didn’t you both try that last night?” Swan husked, enjoying the immediate discomfort that radiated from Emma.

 

“Shut up.” Emma snapped, but it was too late, her face was already bright red and she could feel her palms starting to sweat just from the memory of hearing Regina in the throes of pleasure. “What the hell are we supposed to do? Break out scrabble and take shots for every word we spell wrong?”

 

“That would most definitely involve you getting alcohol poisoning,” Regina dryly remarked, although she never intended to offend Emma. “I’ve seen the misspellings on your reports and budget forms. What I had in mind was something quite different. Swallow your pride and work things out.”

 

Emma stewed silently for a few seconds, more tense than before. 

 

Regina huffed in exasperation and placed her book on the coffee table. “Just talk about your problems amongst yourselves – or, with yourself,” she suggested. “I can mediate. It’s obvious that something is bothering you right now and you’re better off getting it out in the open.”

 

“Thanks Archie, but I’m going to pass on that.” Emma’s sarcastically rolled her eyes and settled heavily back against the couch. What did Regina think would happen? That they’d sit there, and discuss their obvious self-loathing in front of her?

 

The idea of speaking about feelings curled Swan’s lip in disgust. How repugnant, to assume that either of them would address the animosity they felt. Yes, she had helped it along with her own behavior, but that was the whole point when in the pursuit of finding a distraction. It just so happened that Emma was, quite frankly, the perfect source of amusement. 

 

Swan knew intrinsically how to push all the right buttons to get a reaction, and while her impulse was to agree with the Emma, she realized how much fun it would be to side with Regina. To be the better man, so to speak, would surely piss off the savior more than anything.

 

Slyly, Swan let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward to look at Emma. “You don’t make me feel welcome or wanted here and I think that’s a cause of unnecessary tension.” She said bluntly, a smirk on her lips as she caught the wide eyed surprise on her counterpart.

 

Emma’s mouth opened and closed for a moment as her brain floundered for an adequate response. It quickly settled on fury, and before she thought about what she was saying, the words were spat out indignantly, “You know what’s unnecessary? Getting all touchy-feely with this Regina when you already have one of your own!”

 

Swan pressed her lips together, her eyebrows arched in mock pity. “Emma, jealousy isn’t an attractive quality.”

 

“Treating me like a toy to be fought over isn’t the way to my heart,” Regina snorted. “Maybe if you bothered to be honest with me these past few years, instead of hiding what you felt,” she added, and she waved her hand around erratically as if to refer to a number of instances in which Emma screwed up. 

 

“I thought maybe I hadn’t been sending enough signals, but then I undressed in front of you, and you reacted by turning the lights off,” Regina self-consciously glanced towards Swan, because she recognized that they should avoid any discussion of their sex life, or lack thereof - but this seemed an opportune time to complain.

 

“I panicked!” Emma blurted, disturbed by the fact that they were having this conversation right now. It threw her off so much that she couldn’t think clearly. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to see you naked after all the years I’d thought about it? Suddenly there you are, all defiantly sexy and I just - I panicked.”

 

With the heated way Regina and Emma were staring at each other, they never noticed that Swan had moved in her seat. She reclined leisurely, crossing her legs to balance a notepad on her knee while she held a pen. A pair of thick, black rimmed glasses perched on her nose as she quirked an eyebrow at Emma. “Would you say performance anxiety affects you often, or is it that you’re intimidated by powerful, beautiful women?”

 

“I don’t have performance anx--” 

 

Emma groaned, realizing how reflexively she had begun to answer and shot a glare towards Swan. “Can you stop for five damn minutes?”

 

The slowest, Cheshire-like smile graced Swan’s lips as she lilted. “Can I? Of course. Will I?” She shrugged lightly, her dark eyes gleaming deviously.

 

“This is all your fault!” Emma grit out, and if she’d had anything heavier than the remote she’d have thrown it at Swan. Instead, her hands balled into fists, though the only thing she was currently battling was her self control.

 

Unsurprised by the accusation, Swan made a show of jotting something down as she dryly asked, “I see, and why do you feel that I’m to blame for your inability to perform sexually?”

 

Emma’s face grew redder by the second, though whether from anger or embarrassment at this point was hard to tell. “Stop saying I can’t perform! And it is your fault,” Emma spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Swan. “You and the Queen waltzing around together, and suddenly, after years of longing, Regina decides to strip her clothes off? Of course I panicked! Who wouldn’t, being faced with everything they ever wanted?” She half laughed, her breaths coming fast as she carried on frantically, “Not knowing if it was because Regina actually wanted it, or if her actions were influenced by a curiosity that wouldn’t have even been there if you two hadn’t shown up with a kid! But yeah, sure, I’m the screw up for not just tapping that while I had the chance!”

 

Carried away with her emotions, Emma stood up suddenly and stormed off to the kitchen, taking the horrible soda water with her.

 

Regina solemnly sucked on her teeth and raised her eyebrows critically at Swan. “Wait, tapping that?” she spat indignantly, and slid off the sofa to rush after Emma. “So, what – you thought I wanted to get you into bed so you could magically knock me up?” she demanded. “To be completely blunt, all I wanted from you was sex. It’s been a while since I’ve slept with anyone, and we’re attracted to each other, and okay – so maybe I was a little bit influenced by the presence of the Queen and Swan. If they can have sex and maintain their relationship without reducing each other to ash, why can’t we survive having sex just once, and then see where it goes from there?”

 

The look Emma sent Regina’s way could have rivaled the one the first time she’d seen an ogre. “Tapping that is just an expression, and I never said anything about magical pregnancies!” She whispered, the surprise of the accusation shocking her as surely as ice water. She shook herself out of it and turned to face Regina head on, her back straight and jaw squared. “You’ve been giving me hell the whole day just because you wanted a one night stand? Are you kidding me?”

 

Emma had spent her life mostly doing the same thing, and maybe when she’d first got to town she could have seen them being nothing more than someone to scratch each other’s itch, but not now. Not after years of getting to really know one another. “Newsflash Regina, we can’t be fuck buddies if one of us has feelings.” God, how could she have been so stupid, pouring her heart out at dinner?

 

Eavesdropping at the doorway, Swan recognized the hurt in Emma and something akin to empathy flickered briefly inside her chest, much to her chagrin.

 

With a subtle clearing of throat to announce her presence, Swan walked in to rummage through the fridge as though she were unaware of the brittle atmosphere surrounding the two of them. “Fun as it is to play Doctor, perhaps the two of you should call Archie.” She lilted softly, picking up a container of hummus and some celery. “Then again, maybe you could take all this feisty adrenaline and put it to good use. See if it fixes your problems.” She added roguishly, closing the fridge. “Just a thought.” She husked on her way out of the kitchen.

 

Regina seemed fixated on the snack in Swan’s hand, but she turned to Emma with narrow and critical eyes. “Did you see what she’s eating? I’m now convinced that the two of you are very different people,” she sniffed. 

 

“Well she’s evil, so it’s no surprise she enjoys all of the flavorless snacks in your fridge.” Emma shot back without thinking. Her face crumpled a moment later and she huffed out a frustrated breath. This wasn’t productive, and it didn’t help to bicker over every little thing.

 

Regina exhaled impatiently, but then did her best to soften any damage she caused Emma’s ego. “Listen, Emma, I wasn’t suggesting that we sleep together and then leave it at that,” Regina clarified. “We already share a special connection, but I figured it would be the easiest way to determine if we’re also romantically compatible.” 

 

“You couldn’t have just said that at the time?” Emma mumbled, and stuffed her hands into her back pockets to keep them from throttling Regina. Yet, the gentle way Regina looked at her caused her heart to skip a beat, and a flicker of hope slowly fluttered back to life. “Can we just start over? I’m not saying we pretend last night never happened because jesus, I never want to forget the way you sound when you, well…” Emma’s cheeks blazed as she trailed off, and she cleared her throat. “All I’m saying is, moving forward, at least we both know we’re interested, right? That’s a good start.”

 

Regina let out an involuntary but ridiculing laugh before she could control her nervous energy. “I am definitely interested in you, Emma,” she enunciated. “But I’d rather we didn’t rush into making any serious commitments to each other. We have enough stress right now as it is, and we’ve already waited so long for this. Don’t get me wrong — I was angry with you, and your unwillingness to acknowledge whatever feelings you have for me, but tonight’s disastrous dinner party showed me all of the reasons you held off over the years, and maybe some of the reasons I held off, too. I care about you. I don’t want you to be judged for choosing to be with me. I don’t want to be a spectacle as we lead our daily lives, and above all else I’m worried about the risk of hurting you. Of hurting each another. You always look out for me and I try to protect you in return, but not so long ago we were enemies.”

 

To spite her own intentions and words of warning, Regina sidled closer and placed her hands gently on Emma’s shoulders. She paused on the final driving point of her argument, and rubbed her lips together thoughtfully as peered through her lashes down at Emma’s inviting mouth. “Just think of the potential fall-out if our relationship didn’t last.” Standing close enough to feel Emma’s radiating warmth, Regina found herself leaning in and inhaling deeply. 

 

Emma swallowed thickly as she followed Regina’s lips with every hushed word. It was ridiculous, the way her pulse raced at just feeling those hands on her shoulders. “Yeah it would be a nightmare.” She muttered distractedly, her breaths uneven and pupils dilated. “But what if it wasn’t?” 

 

Regina’s lips were right there for the taking and Emma would be a fool not to go for it a second time. Ignoring any of her instincts that told her to be cautious, Emma shrugged lightly, and murmured not so romantically “Fuck it” as she captured Regina’s mouth so very softly with her own.

 

Regina moaned as her tongue slipped through Emma’s parted lips and sensuously teased and savored her. No sooner did they initiate the kiss than Emma’s hands were on Regina’s hips and gently hoisting her onto the counter. Together they stripped open the buttons on Regina’s top with frantic decisiveness, and with one-handed dexterity, Emma removed her bra and palmed her full breasts greedily. Their hot mouths collided in a desperate rush and they both reveled in the relief and passion of it. It would have continued, if not for the loud noise of a nearby door swinging shut, which signaled Swan’s untimely return. 

 

Regina flung her bra away behind the table and yanked her shirt closed, then slid off the countertop so clumsily that she nearly fell. She forcefully shoved Emma in Swan’s direction and then hovered behind Emma to cover up the fact that her nipples were firm. “Go find a way to keep yourself entertained for a little while, and then come back,” she demanded. “Put on a movie, or teach her how to use Henry’s Xbox. Give her a box of matches if you think it’ll keep her busy for half an hour—” Emma did a double take at her last suggestion and Regina rolled her eyes. “Did you forget about the firepit you built in my backyard with Henry? You always spend hours roasting marshmallows with him, even on cold evenings. I assume Swan still has a devotion to sweets like you do, even though she’ll eat a healthy snack, whereas you’d rather starve first—“ 

 

Emma gave a lustful, lingering look back at Regina that said loud and clear what she would rather be eating, then groaned in defeat. “Fine.” She whispered, setting her jaw in frustration. “But find a better place than the kitchen.” With that said, Emma pushed her way through the door and intercepted Swan without so much as blinking. “Unless you want a fireball to the face, don’t go in there.”

 

Swan’s dark eyes took in the flushed look of Emma’s cheeks and the way she licked her lips almost longingly. Curious, Swan took a step closer to kitchen and watched a flash of panic cross Emma’s face.

 

“Don’t be an ass,” Emma hurriedly added, and grabbed Swan’s arm. “Besides, I’ve got a candy stash and an urge to kill things on Henry’s xbox.”

 

“Are we friends now?” Swan lilted sarcastically, and wrenched her arm out of Emma’s grip. A devious smile threatened to curl her lips as she leaned in to ask. “So what happened? Did you make a fool of yourself again?” Swan’s mirth was barely restrained as she trailed after Emma like an ominous shadow.

 

“Look, it’s been a shitty night, can we please just call a truce?” Emma sighed, knowing full well that regardless of what she said Swan would just assume the worst and gloat over it anyway. It was oddly satisfying, and yet somehow humiliating, to see how much it was working. “I won’t mention the Queen, and you don’t mention Regina, and in return I’ll share what I’ve got.”

 

Swan sucked on her teeth thoughtfully and sank heavily into a chair. It would be easy enough to poke at her counterpart until she exploded again but something was going on and she would figure it out eventually. “I want two thirds of whatever you have, and your word that I get to sleep here without you complaining the whole night.”

 

The sigh that left Emma’s body was so heavy it was a wonder her soul didn’t escape with it. “Sure, whatever.” She grunted, and pulled five games off a shelf to retrieve a bag of candy that had been tucked behind them. “But you aren’t getting all the Reeses cups.” She added sharply, and threw a controller towards her. “Get ready to have your ass handed to you. Try out a few practice rounds, and I’ll be right back.”

 

Regina strutted into the living room with perfect composure, although she tugged at her own hands behind her back. “Emma, join me in my study so we can continue our conversation,” she sternly ordered. 

 

There was no way she would suffer the indignity of hesitating, so Regina disappeared down the hall at a rapid pace. 

 

Regina waited for Emma to enter the cozy room all while maintaining a businesslike poise. She stood at the door until Emma awkwardly slumped down on the leather sofa and looked at her expectantly. 

 

As if that glance alone had made up her mind, Regina slipped out of her shirt and pajama bottoms. “Just so we’re clear this time, I want to have sex,” she bluntly informed Emma. “With you, and not myself,” she added dryly, and let her eyes briefly drift as she recalled the insufferably embarrassing situation of the night before. 

 

Emma’s jaw went slack at the sight of Regina, and she forgot to breathe for a second. It was happening. They were really doing this, and she wasn’t about to mess it up again. “Well what are you waiting for, an invitation?” She husked quietly, her voice low, and eyes dark with arousal. “Get over here. I can’t go another second without touching you.” There was no preamble of what she desired this time. No hint of shame as she raked her eyes over Regina’s body and wet her lips, almost like she could taste her from a distance. Emma beckoned her closer, and pulled Regina down onto her lap the moment she got close enough. Impatient in her need, she grabbed Regina’s face as they kissed and moaned as their tongues caressed. 

 

“I chose the spot where I first considered sleeping with you,” Regina quietly confided as she paused to help Emma out of her clothes. Her hands went immediately to Emma’s well cut biceps and mapped their way down every muscle. 

 

Emma’s lips closed around a sensitive spot on her neck and raised goose bumps over Regina’s skin. 

 

“I knew the moment I saw you that if we’d met under different circumstances, I’d have tried to pick you up.” Emma murmured warmly, kissing a trail of soft, wet kisses along the underside of Regina’s jaw. “Doing it on your walkway isn’t exactly romantic though.” She roguishly asserted. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” She teased, and with a fluid movement, Emma swung Regina’s legs over her own so that she sat side saddle in her lap. 

 

Emma’s hand confidently sought out the apex of Regina’s thighs to caress along the silky length of panties. She wasn’t sure who moaned the most at the contact.

 

"I’m into a lot of things that would really surprise you,” Regina breathed raggedly. Suspense left them both feeling lightheaded and eager as Emma gathered her panties to the side to look at her glistening pussy.

 

Just as Emma was about to do much more than look, a soft breeze blew through the office and with it came the Queen in a tumultuous cloud of purple smoke. She still clutched a tiny compact mirror that revealed she had been spying rather than sleeping. Snapping it closed, the Queen seized hold of Regina by the ear and pulled her up and off Emma’s lap.

 

“Emma didn’t even take you on a date yet, and yet you’re ready to bed her?” The Queen mercilessly demanded. She seemed paler than usual and her eyes suspiciously puffy. “Don’t you have any pride?”

 

Regina swatted the Queen’s hand away, and then promptly grabbed her nightshirt to cover up. “I have plenty. And how long did it take Swan to woo you, exactly?" she spat. "It couldn't have been that long, considering the obvious evidence: your daughter."

 

Startled beyond function, it took Emma several long seconds to snap out of her lustful haze, and throw herself in front of Regina to cover her from – well – her own prying eyes. 

 

Emma’s face twisted in confusion as she faced the Queen, a mixture of humiliation and frustration that left her red cheeked and tight lipped. “Were you watching us this whole time?” She finally spat, even though she already knew the answer. With her arm outstretched to ensure Regina was shielded, Emma also made a flustered move to cover herself. It did nothing but emphasize the fact she stood in her underwear. “Get out!” She shrilly insisted, feeling her libido violently second that demand. 

 

The Queen’s face fell before she could deflect, and yet rather than shrink away from the argument, she lifted her shoulders higher and stepped in close to threaten Emma. “Or what?” she rumbled softly. “Are you going to toss me out into the street? Banish me back to the Wish realm? Or better yet, imprison me right here in Storybrooke? Believe it or not, Emma Swan, but I have Regina’s best interest at heart. And yours, too. The two of you are inevitably going to sleep together. In fact, I encourage that. But would it be too much to make a few romantic gestures beforehand? After all of your foolish misunderstandings, you could be the least bit chivalrous.” 

 

A conflicting bolt of arousal fizzed to life in the pit of Emma’s stomach from the intensity and sound the Queen’s _or what._ It struck all the nerves of when Emma had first faced off against Regina – the palpable attraction and heated tension that had kept her awake many nights the first year in town. She shivered despite herself and hoped that Regina hadn’t noticed. 

 

“No, I-” Emma huffed out a breath, her jaw going slack at the rant thrown in her face. She blinked rapidly and shook her head, “Jesus all I meant was get out of the room, not out of the house or town. Why the hell would I lock you up?” She countered, then narrowed her eyes at the compact in the Queen’s hand. “Beyond invading privacy.” She added, with a bite to her tone. “Hey, I can be chivalrous.” She grunted as the rest of the Queen’s remarks finally registered, and she looked back at Regina as she muttered a mortified, “ _I will be._ ”

 

“Why are we yelling.” Swan’s lilting tone made an entrance just before she did. The door slammed open dramatically and she stood there in the frame, hands on her hips and a pale eyebrow raised. She canted her head at the sight of the Queen, the only sign that her presence affected her despite the rapid beating of her heart. “Ah, so you’ve returned.” She spoke slowly, so as not to give away any trace of emotion. Swan’s piercing eyes drank in the signs of distress then drifted fleetingly over to assess the half dressed state of their counterparts. “You know, it’s rude to have an orgy without inviting everyone in the house.”

 

“This is not an orgy,” Regina laughed bitterly, but then she sighed out in defeat and gestured towards the Queen. “Nothing happened, and nothing is ever likely to happen because we’re constantly interrupted.” She huffily reached for her pajamas, and stepped back into her lounge pants. “So much for getting a little stress relief after this disastrous evening.” Anxiously licking her bottom lip, she glanced at the Queen to gauge her emotional state. “We might as well just go to bed.”

 

The Queen reacted to Swan’s approach, both flinching and yearningly leaned towards her. But it was Regina’s arm she seized ahold of and clung to as she made her way to the door. “Yes, we’ll be upstairs in bed if either of you need us,” she suavely declared, and guided Regina out of the study before any further dispute ensued. 

 

Regina acquiesced, if only because the Queen docilely led her away and up to the bedroom. “Please don’t rush things with Emma,” the Queen advised. “When I fell for Swan, we moved too fast and then she was gone. I just want to protect you, Regina. You know it’s always been my job to do that. Every time you were hurt, it was me who consoled and reassured you.” 

 

“This time it’s you who is hurting,” Regina countered, and then went to find a set of pajamas for the Queen in the closet. Removing a set that was similar to her own, she passed it off to the Queen. “I know we’ve had our differences and in the past we’ve been our own worst enemy. But being vindictive and meddlesome isn’t going to make you feel better this time. Maybe you need to find the softer side of yourself, the side that you associate with me, and let yourself grieve and heal differently than ever before. Either way, your entire family here in Storybrooke is going to support you. Emma and Swan searched for you earlier, and saw that you were asleep at Zelena’s, or we would have been out looking for you through the night. Snow only agreed to go home tonight because she’s taking care of your daughter.”

 

“You left Selena alone with that imbecile?” The Queen asked in horror, then checked on the sleeping baby in her mirror. The little one had just finished a bottle, and Snow stood nearby rocking the cradle in which Selena rested. “She isn’t at all like Snow White from the Wish Realm, but she’s still Snow,” The Queen anxiously complained, and yet her eyes still watered at the sight of Snow tending to her baby. 

 

The Queen slid into bed while Regina lingered at the vanity, putting on hand lotion and night cream. 

 

“I’m sure Swan and Emma will be joining us any second,” Regina remarked. “They won’t know what to do with themselves downstairs. What are our sleeping arrangements for tonight?” 

 

As the Queen pondered that question, Swan was downstairs thinking about the same matter: it was clear that Regina had almost slept with Emma. 

 

“Poor Savior can’t catch a break.” Swan drawled, her focus now on Emma as she scrambled to pick up her clothes like a wayward teen caught by parents. She squinted thoughtfully for a moment, and tipped her head back to sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

 

“Smell what?” Emma irritably asked, pulling her shirt back on, albeit backwards. She snatched up her pants that had gathered at her ankles and hurriedly zipped them up.

 

“Your sexual frustration. A salty desperation, with hints of musk.” The corners of Swan’s lips curled slowly into an almost mocking smile as she spoke. “You could always sleep in one of the spare rooms if you need work it out of your system. All that tension can’t be healthy. I bet you’re ready to burst.”

 

Emma growled low in the back of her throat and pushed passed Swan, leaving her dignity in the process as she fired back, “The only one fucking themselves right now is you. Congratulations -- you can take the couch.”

 

She shut the door behind her, leaving Swan alone as she scurried quietly up the stairs and slipped into Regina’s bedroom just as the door to the master bathroom clicked shut. She spied Regina already in bed, and all but stumbled over herself in her rush to seize the opportunity to get a moment together. “I know tonight was a mess,” She whispered as she neared the side of the bed. “And I know yesterday wasn’t great either.” Emma paused, swallowing thickly as she brought her hand up to ghost her thumb against Regina’s lips. “But kissing you tonight was the best damn thing I’ve ever done, and I can’t want to do it again. . .”

 

The Queen tucked a finger under Emma’s chin as if she intended to initiate a kiss. Emma had made a terrible mistake. “What would you have done if the Queen hadn’t shown up?” She coyly asked, all while gently stroking Emma’s face. “It seemed like you were about to slide your fingers into my pussy. Would you have been gentle, or rough with me? My instincts say you would have given it to me hard and rough, Emma.”

 

Emma's eyes glazed over with desire, the memory of seeing Regina's pussy slick with arousal flashed brightly in her mind, and a pang of need sent a throb straight to her core. She sucked in a stuttered breath only to exhale against the plump, inviting lips mere inches from her own. "Well, as tempting as it is to say I'd have fucked you all over the office, the truth is, if she hadn't barged in, I'd have taken my time exploring all of you. She might have been right. We haven't been on a date, but that doesn't mean I can't treat you like Queen." 

 

"Speaking of Queens," Swan said appearing in the room behind Emma. Her tone was light and deceivingly sweet, "if you don't get your hands off mine, you'll need new ones."

 

“That’s one way in which you are the same: both of you are the jealous type,” Regina teased as she made her way to the bed and stretched out on her side. “We have decided that you can share this bed with us tonight. Or feel free to sleep anywhere else.” 

 

The Queen withdrew her finger from under Emma’s chin, and shot an innocent look Regina’s way. Regina stared expectantly at Emma and pulled down the bed covers to make space in case her bed happened to be overcrowded for the night. 

 

With the sting of humiliation leaving her cheeks rosy, Emma took a second too long to comprehend Regina’s offer. 

 

Swan vanished, only to reappear in the middle of the bed, wearing only a tank top and black panties. She quirked an eyebrow at Emma, a silent taunt of too late, and smiled smugly as Regina settled in bed beside her. Effectively sandwiched between Regina and the Queen, Swan hummed pleasantly, “The couch is still vacant.”

 

“I--” Emma faltered, her jealousy snatching her words before she could form them. She watched, jaw clenched, as Swan wiggled against Regina and the Queen to get comfortable, knowing it was only to rile her. 

 

“I’m taking the floor. It’s good for your back anyway.” Emma huffed petulantly, waving her hand to bring forth a sleeping bag and pillow, which she indignantly arranged on the floor by Regina.

 

Regina coughed deep in her throat and shifted closer to Swan to open up a spot for Emma. She patted the bed, at first lightly and then more forcefully as Emma failed to understand her unspoken command. “It might be good for your back, but it won't be good for the rest of you, if you get my meaning, " she irritably grated out. “There’s plenty of room in the bed for all four of us.”

 

The Queen’s focus remained on Swan, and she visibly swallowed as she tucked the blanket around her and curled onto her side. She seemed to be anticipating a backlash, or a discussion, even as Regina turned off the lamp on her night table. The total darkness brought a silence to the bedroom, in which Swan sprawled out and Emma tried not to intrude on Regina’s space. 

 

Words were never Swan’s strong suit when it came to emotion, and her perception heightened by the Darkness meant that very little got past her. 

 

The Queen’s frozen posture screamed at Swan, a sign that could not go ignored. Unfortunately, they weren’t alone. Swan kept her lips sealed and wrestled with the urge to turn on her side. Thick blankets cloaked the way her hand slid along the Queen’s side to rest on her hip. She squeezed softly, and that gentle first gesture melted into a slow, soothing back rub. When her touch wasn’t shrugged off, Swan shifted subtly onto her side and coiled her arm across the Queen’s midsection to tuck her protectively against herself.

 

Emma swallowed thickly. The sound of four people breathing in the dark room was so weird. The silence that followed, as though everyone was entirely too aware of how close they all were, felt smothering. Emma sighed heavily, unable to stop herself, and tried not to fidget. “Well goodnight.” She blurted, all too aware that Regina’s thigh had suddenly found hers, and the tickle of warm breath on her cheek spoke of the close proximity. How was she ever meant to fall asleep?

 

The Queen melded herself into Swan’s comforting embrace, and choked back a startling sob that rose in her throat at the unexpected tenderness. She breathed steadily through her nose to avoid notice, even as hot tears streamed down her cheeks and her lips parted in a soundless cry. Her shoulders heaved, much to her alarm, and yet she stayed burrowed into Swan rather than retreating. 

 

Regina controlled her breath for different reasons, although she could not quite control the way her hands roamed, or how they greedily reached for Emma. She placed both hands on Emma’s toned abs, feeling around under her shirt as she snuck closer in bed and boldly dropped her head on Emma’s shoulder. “Goodnight?” Regina replied, even if the touch of surprise in her voice made her seem dubious. 

 

Emma’s self-control had never been stellar, so it was no surprise that she felt her willpower drain the longer she lay there. Every touch from Regina set her skin ablaze and her lost libido surged back to life with a vengeance. Her body betrayed her readily, and before she could think, she was inching closer, her own hands reaching out to ghost across Regina’s shirt to finger the buttons in temptation. “Someone had to say it.” She whispered back, anything but tired.

 

On either side of the bed, each couple was unable to sleep for their own reasons. The Queen’s shuddering breaths sliced through Swan. 

 

Swan tightened her arm around her lover in an attempt to absorb all the pain that she felt, and to shield her from being heard. Tucking her chin against the Queen’s shoulder blade, Swan allowed just the barest touch of magic to trickle from her fingertips. It danced across the Queen like a static charge, warming her cold skin. Using the tip of her nose, Swan nestled into the crook of the Queens neck and placed a delicate kiss against the racing pulse there.

 

The Queen accepted the tenderness up to a point, at which she flung Swan’s arm abruptly away. The imprint of Swan’s kiss had yet to dry. 

 

“I never took you for a cuddler, Swan,” the Queen chuckled mirthlessly. “Are you feeling particularly clingy tonight, or are you just hoping to take full advantage of the fact that we have a sitter for our daughter? Honestly, your hands are all over me.”

 

“We are trying to sleep,” Regina hoarsely grunted. 

 

If Emma could have snorted without it sounding suspicious, she would have. Sleep my ass, she thought. She might not know much, but she knew damn well that Regina’s hands had been getting braver under her shirt, and in return Emma had managed to fumble open at least three buttons on Regina’s. She trailed her fingers over shapely collarbones, amazed at the tingles it sent through her hands just from the skin contact, and wondered just what the hell they were doing, other than acting like teenagers.

 

“You demanded that we refrain from sex, so can you at least refrain from talking?” Regina sighed and lifted her head to peer over at their counterparts in the pitch darkness. Her own hands remained under Emma’s shirt, scratching lightly and lazily and squeezing at the overheated muscle.

 

Swan rolled her eyes first, before choosing to roll onto her back, her arms lifting to cross above her head in a lackadaisical fashion. Someone was back to being her old self rather quickly. Appearances had to be made, no doubt, though she kept that to herself. Swan showed no signs of being hurt by the rejection, but she did choose that moment to turn to Regina, a barely there whisper falling from her lips so that only she heard it, “Ask Emma about the surprise she wants to buy you from Forbidden Fruits.”

 

“Forbidden Fruits?” Regina blurted loudly in confusion. “That sex toy shop?” Her tone reflected her disbelief, although her nipples firmed at the mere idea of Emma browsing the shelves in an adult shop with her in mind. As Emma’s fingers circuited back around, they grazed one of the hard little peaks.

 

Regina swore she could hear Emma choking in shock as she felt her up. 

 

“We might have tried out the little surprise Emma had put on hold to use with you,” the Queen announced, sounding much more cheerful now that she had a reason to torment Emma. “Or should I say… the extra large surprise. Almost too much for you to take.”

 

“Oh god.” Emma croaked, and in a fit of desperation brought the duvet up and bit into it to halt the scream already echoing in her mind. This was worse than the time Mary Margaret tried to have a the talk with her after the curse had broken. It all happened when Mary Margaret had the motherly urge to fold her socks and put them away. The trouble was, socks hadn’t been the only thing she’d found in that drawer. Emma then had to endure the worst fifteen minutes of her life. 

 

“Please stop talking.” Emma mumbled meekly, already half dead from embarrassment.

 

Swan smirked as she turned on her side to face Regina, peering into the darkness as if trying to look at her counterpart. “For someone who wants to wield such a mighty sword, you appear to lack the confidence needed.” Swan teased, her lilting tone filled with mischief. “Are you ashamed?”

 

A strangled sounding groan was the only response as Emma slapped her hands over her face.

 

“If you can manage, Swan, then I’m sure Emma would have no trouble pleasing me. Unless your Queen was dissatisfied with the performance you gave,” Regina sniffed, coming to Emma’s rescue with a growl of protectiveness in her voice. She yanked at Emma’s covering and forcefully snatched it away. “You are the most arrogant person I know but you’re going to allow yourself to bully you?”

 

The only saving grace to the whole situation was the fact that it was too dark to see how red Emma’s face had become. 

 

Emma sucked in a slow, deep breath and wet her lips nervously. Her eyes sought out Regina’s shadowy face as she mumbled. “This wasn’t exactly how I wanted to tell you. I mean, I haven’t even worked up the courage to buy it yet.” She sighed, adding in a whisper. “I didn’t know if it was something you’d be into.” At the time when Emma had first seen it, she wasn’t even entirely sure that Regina had a romantic interest in her. “And you can fuck off.” Emma directed to Swan. 

 

The Queen perked up at the brewing conflict and slithered closer to put her hand on Emma in the dark. She leaned over Swan and navigated around Regina, who sat up and glared as the Queen intruded on their side of the bed.

 

“Don’t be angry at Swan because she boldly pursued what you wouldn’t,” the Queen rumbled almost flirtatiously, and reached out with deceptive tenderness. She caressed the side of Emma’s face with the back of her knuckles. “You are free now to do the same. After your little explosion tonight, you made it clear that you’re no longer interested in pleasing everyone else. Nothing can hold you back if you quit clinging to your misguided little need to be the perfect daughter and leader. ” 

 

Wetting her lips with a languid swipe of her tongue, the Queen pressed herself onto Emma so that she could practically feel the moisture of her warm and beguiling breaths. “You know what I have always found attractive about you, Emma? All of your power. It practically drips off of you, but in so many ways you fail to exploit it. Take charge in your relationship with Regina. Stop hiding under this blanket like the infant your parents foolishly abandoned in the name of doing what was good for everybody else. Do what is good for you. Go on a date with Regina, and end the night by exploring all of your fantasies. I know how seductive and forceful you are capable of being. And just so you have the added assurance, Regina will love how _it_ feels.” 

 

There was so much to process, old wounds being salted slyly, that Emma sat bolt upright as her mind was assaulted by certain images planted there. Alright, so maybe they were already flashing in her mind, but the added stimuli of the Queen left her trembling. 

 

“Listen,” Emma croaked, leaning away from the Queen’s touch as her eyes wildly sought out Regina in the darkness. “Dinner was a train wreck but I stand by what I said and it’s honestly none of your damn business either way. You like my power?” She scoffed, steeling herself as she quietly, but firmly, drew a line in the sand. “Get back to your side of the bed or you and Swan can take another room. You’ve interrupted us enough for one night, the least you can do is let us sleep.”

 

Laughter, both light and foreboding, floated from Swan’s lips. It ended in a whimsical sigh, a soft muted hum as though she were thoroughly tickled. “Sleep.” She deadpanned, her hand lifting in the black room to snap her fingers. All the lights blazed, their searing brightness making everyone except Swan squint as she lay there, smirking. With a slight tilt of her head she caught an eyeful of exposed skin that Regina seemed momentarily unaware of. “Sure looks like you were trying to sleep.” She said sarcastically, “With each other.”

 

Emma’s pale skin flushed red with anger, and she leaned across Regina to shield her from Swan’s gaze once again. It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it but she’d be damned if she fell into another asinine lie. “We sure are!” She said instead, and pointedly looked at Swan, then the door. “Why don’t you two take the spare room. This arrangement isn’t working for us.” 

 

Swan’s smile became wider, her white teeth shining as she met Emma’s gaze. “We made a deal.” She reminded her, a sinister edge to her tone. “There’s no breaking it. You of all people should know that.”

 

“You’ve been making deals?” The Queen and Regina asked in unison, with the same dark luminance in their eyes.

 

Regina closed up the buttons on her nightshirt under Swan’s scrutiny. Her displeasure showed in how fast she stood up, separating herself from the uncomfortable situation that was only further complicated by Emma’s secretive antics. 

 

“Deals that involve all of us sleeping in bed together,” The Queen hummed in mock disapproval. “Of course. There’s nothing the Darkness loves more than a deal. And just what did Emma promise you?”

 

Emma huffed out a flustered breath as she looked to Regina. “That tonight I wouldn’t ask about the Queen, and in return she wouldn’t talk about you. You wanted me to distract her, so we could…” She wet her lips nervously, running her suddenly sweaty palms down her shirt. “I traded a third of my candy stash.”

 

“For the record, I never said I was making a deal.” Emma clarified, and glared at Swan’s stupid smug face in frustration. “It’s only for one night.”

 

“Semantics.” Swan husked, still sprawled out on her back with her arms propped behind her head as she watched everyone else. “I agreed to accept her bribe on the condition that I get to sleep here tonight. We never specified where I’d sleep, but the main thing we did discuss was that Emma can’t complain about it.”

 

“You’re being a petty asshole.” Emma hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes apologetic as they swung to Regina.

 

“Perhaps.” Swan conceded, with a sparkle of something in her eyes that was all for the Queen. 

 

The Queen and Regina communicated silently, and then Regina coolly returned to her place in bed. 

 

“The next time the two of you strike a bargain over us, you might want to remember we’re actual people, and not the price-slashed special of the week,” Regina softly hissed at Emma, then arranged the blanket around her to prevent hands from wandering. 

 

“It’s no surprise to me that they’re conspiring with each other,” the Queen replied, as if Regina’s conversation included her. “Swan doesn’t want to confront what happened in the Wish Realm, and Emma can’t deal with anyone teasing her over her vulnerabilities or feelings for you.” 

 

With a pitying and puckered expression on her face, the Queen turned off the light and tucked herself back into bed. “Not to mention,” she whispered to Swan. “You’re frightened I’m going to win our little wager. That’s quite alright, dear: I _want_ you to use all of your best tricks in your futile effort to get ahead. It will be so much more satisfying when I take your dagger, and that’s not a euphemism: I do mean your blade. Much as I talked up your abilities, you did leave me rather wanting. We shall see if that’s something you can work to rectify in the future. . . ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you all enjoyed this long chapter to make up for our absence. If you did, please let us know in the comment section down below. :)


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning felt like a surreal nightmare. Emma awoke with a jolt, only to find Regina’s hand tucked between her legs and The Queen standing fully dressed at her side of the bed with a questioning eyebrow raised. 

 

Emma blinked the sleep from her eyes and squinted at the clock. “It’s barely seven in the morning. Why are you standing there?” She whispered, her voice thick from slumber.

 

“The sun is up and we want our daughter.” Swan coolly informed her from the bottom of the bed. She was clad in all black and her emotionless expression gave nothing away as she flicked her hand through the air and sent the duvet flying off of Emma, revealing the compromising position to not only them, but to a suddenly awake Regina.

 

Face aflame, Emma untangled herself from Regina and sat up to wipe the drool off her chin with as much grace as she could muster. “You couldn’t have given us another hour before looming over us?” She grumbled, already missing the contact from Regina as she swung her legs out of bed and stretched with a low moan. “How long have you been standing there?”

 

“Long enough to know you mumble in your sleep.” Swan informed her with a slow smile, which could only mean trouble.

 

That was enough to make Emma get to her feet. “Okay, I’ll call Snow.” She announced quickly, and grabbed her phone before rushing to leave the room.

 

The Queen’s nostrils expanded as she practically breathed fire in Emma’s direction. “Hurry along,” she commanded. “Or we’ll tell Regina what you said about her ass.” 

 

Regina groggily took stock of her own disheveled appearance. She noticed that her pajama bottoms had mysteriously been discarded in the middle of the night, and the resultant looks of judgment that Swan and the Queen threw her way. “I was too warm,” she complained in her own self-defense. “I don’t normally share my bed with _three_ other people.”

 

If Emma heard the comment, she sure as hell didn’t react to it as she closed the door.

 

“I slept without pants.” Swan added offhandedly. “I didn’t have my hand between anyone’s legs, but if the opportunity had risen…” She shrugged lightly, and swept out of the room to follow Emma downstairs and into the kitchen.

 

Emma had started brewing a pot of coffee before finally making the phone call. Unsurprisingly, her parents were up and ready to start the day, bright as ever, and Emma rolled her eyes at how eager they were to talk to her. They were less eager about having all four of them show up to collect the kid after everything that had happened last night. 

 

“Alright, so why don’t we meet at the station? David can bring the kid,” Emma suggested.

 

“Are you negotiating a drop off point for my child as if she were some kind of narcotic?” Swan pointedly asked, her tone rising at the absurdity of it all.

 

Emma pressed the phone to her chest as she hissed back. “After last night they’re a bit wary of you two just poofing into their home. I’m sure you can understand why.”

 

Swan sucked on her teeth, her arms folding as she considered it. To be fair, David and Snow had a point, but that didn’t mean she had to acknowledge it.

 

But the Queen overheard their entire little chat from the kitchen door. With a malicious grin and a black laugh, she threw up her arms to cast a flurry of magic around herself. 

 

Regina entered the kitchen in a state of bewilderment and half dress. She frowned as the Queen vanished and she stepped into the spot where her look alike had been standing. All it took was glancing at Emma’s stunned face to conclude that they all needed to follow the Queen. 

 

With a trilling but quiet cackle, the Queen appeared in Snow and David’s kitchen, followed by Regina, Emma, and Swan. 

 

Snow dumped the bowl of porridge she had been holding all over herself when she spotted her sudden breakfast guests. The sticky mess slid down her boring cardigan, leaving behind a thick trail of sludge before dripping onto the floor. 

 

“What’s the matter, Snow?” The Queen thickly taunted, as she strutted around and used subtle intimidation tactics to bully her enemy. “You weren’t frightened of me before, but now that your own guilt is starting to gnaw at you, you suddenly can’t bear to see me?” she ranted. She dragged her eyes over the oats that clung to Snow’s top, then dipped her finger into the sticky goo. “At least shame suits you,” she spat. “It’s an improvement on your usual, self-righteous look.”

 

The fright on Snow’s face dissolved to a less than enthusiastic, tight lipped smile. “Nice of you to drop in.” She said, her eyes locking with the Queen’s as though unimpressed and equally unsurprised by her behavior. “Can I get anyone some tea?” She asked, waving a hand to the kettle still steaming on the stove.

 

David cradled Selena in his arms with a doting smile on his lips, while baby Neal lay in his crib, peacefully snoozing. “I don’t think your moms can wait another second to have you back.” He softly sang, and the baby gurgled happily in agreement.

 

Swan chose that moment to stride over and hold her hands out expectantly for her daughter. “That’s one thing you’re right about.” She informed him stoically.

 

Emma grimaced at the awkwardness of the morning, and she avoided Snow’s eager glances by standing off to the side of Regina, both of them still in their disheveled pajamas. “Well, give them the kid and we can all go back to our homes.” It wasn’t that she was grouchy, exactly, but she didn’t want to spend any longer in the small apartment than necessary.

 

“Don’t you want to stay for breakfast?” Snow blurted hopefully as she scraped oatmeal off her cardigan and into the trash.

 

“I’ll pass.” Emma stated flatly.

 

The Queen took a thick slice of toast from David’s plate and bit viciously into it, then she tried out his eggs and porridge. With her exaggerated chewing and severe, squinting eyes, she followed Snow behind the breakfast nook. “Absolutely dry and tasteless,” she announced as a final judgment of the meal. “ _High ho, high ho,_ it’s in the trash you go,” The Queen grunted, and then flung her piece of toast into the garbage. 

 

“Oh, it can’t be that awful,” Regina argued, and snatched David’s other slice of toast only to prove a point. She helped herself to a large bite, and then choked as she attempted to consume it. “Did you make this loaf of bread?” She coughed, unable to stop her eyes from rapidly watering. 

 

David seemed a little put out, since his entire breakfast had disappeared, but he good-naturedly grinned at The Queen and Regina. “We bought the bread from a new bakery in town,” he explained. “The three blind mice have gone into business together and we wanted to show our support.” 

 

“What a bright idea to give a food license to three disgusting rodents,” The Queen husked, glancing critically at Regina. As Mayor, she had the power to intervene if she so desired. 

 

“We also ordered a cake for Selena’s naming ceremony,” Snow confided, without any shame or tinge of regret. “Of course I would be happy to bake a second cake for my first granddaughter—” 

 

The Queen reacted as though someone had thrown ice water on her, and then she turned to Emma as if to demand she handle Snow. 

 

Regina delicately stepped around the Queen and leaned towards Snow. “Um, Snow, you plan to announce Selena as one of your line?” 

 

“That’s what I intend to do, yes,” Snow solidly divulged, and then as she eyed David, it became clear the couple had been discussing it. “Swan is my daughter. If she’s somehow part of Emma that fractured in the wishverse, and the Queen is part of you, then there is no reason to debate whether or not it’s appropriate. Selena is our granddaughter, and the whole town will recognize her birthright.” She dotingly moved towards Swan, and stared down at the infant with love and pride. “I think she has my chin, doesn’t she? She has a lot of my features, actually – “

 

The Queen struggled to constrain her fury, as Snow somehow made the best of the entire situation, when the Queen had vindictively hoped it would all be a source of angst for her. She turned purple with rage, but the color in her face soon drained as she relieved Swan of the weight of their infant. “She has _Swan’s_ chin,” The Queen callously spat, as if that _hadn’t_ been inherited directly from Snow White. “And Swan’s eyes, nose, and facial expressions. She’s the spitting image of Swan.”

 

Retreating to the couch with the baby, the Queen fell into a fugue state. 

 

Regina slipped into a seat at the table, and furtively peered over at the Queen. “Swan,” she muttered, and reached out to touch her, guaranteeing to hold her attention. “Sit with us for a moment?” 

 

Startled by how readily the Queen listed the ways in which their daughter looked like her, Swan stood frozen until Regina pulled her from her thoughts and she silently sat down at the table, her gaze lingering on Selena before flicking back to the Queen. Somewhere, deep down, buried beneath her emotionless mask, a crack of hope formed and pulsed through Swan’s heart.

 

Left to face Snow and David alone, Emma pressed her lips into a thin white line and uttered a phrase she had reserved for Regina all those years ago. “A word in the hallway! Both of you.” Her clipped tone left no room for argument, and once they were in the in privacy of the hall, Emma unleashed a furious hiss of, “Cancel that cake and the whole ceremony, what the hell were you two thinking?”

 

Snow looked aghast, and leaned into David as if Emma had just slapped her. “We just thought--”

 

“She’s our granddaughter, and they’re family.” David tried to reason, squeezing his wife closer in a protective embrace. Ever the united front, despite everything that had happened the previous night. “We thought it would be the best way to show everyone that we not only accept them but welcome them in our hearts and Storybrooke.”

 

 _God damn their foolish sentimentality._ Emma let out a frustrated breath and leaned closer to them, her eyes dark and narrowed as she whispered angrily, “After _everything_ we just found out, what happened to the Queen, you think hijacking this moment from them is going to make them feel _welcome_? This is _their_ kid, it’s their moment to make if they want to make it. You can’t just decide all this and then tell them it’s happening. What if Cora were still alive and she decided to pull that kind of shit with Neal, huh? Would you feel loved, or would it feel like she were stealing something important right from under your feet?”

 

That seemed to work, because Snow blinked rapidly and David’s complexion paled enough to match his wife’s. “That wasn’t our intention, Emma, you have to believe us.” Snow implored, and clasped her hands around one of her daughter’s.

 

Emma tugged her hand back and released a heavy breath. “Of course it wasn’t, but now you can fix it. Go back in there and tell them you’re sorry and that you’re cancelling the whole thing. Or, if they want it, you will be delighted—but you’d understand if they’d rather not right now.”

 

David nodded woodenly, and steered Snow back into the apartment with Emma slowly following behind. “It’s been brought to our attention that despite our intentions we’ve overstepped.” He began, looking appropriately ashamed as he clutched Snow’s hand.

 

“It isn’t our place to force this upon you and we——” Snow swallowed thickly, her eyes wide and watery, “we’re sorry. We’ll cancel the cake and ceremony.”

 

Emma sought out Regina and nodded to her, relaxing at the sight of the three of them all huddled together with Selena.

 

“You should be.” Swan murmured softly, though she never took her eyes off her daughter. “If you ever try to pull something like that again without our permission...” She trailed off, her expression shifting as her lips parted in a silent _oh._

 

Emma realized the baby had wrapped her little fist around Swan’s thumb. Swan looked at Selena as if she were the entire world, with wonder and awe reflected in her gaze.

 

Selena opened her mouth in a little baby yawn and squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she settled in for a nap. Her fingers loosened gradually and a dab of drool appeared in both corners of her chubby cheeks.

 

“She deserves to be acknowledged and celebrated,” the Queen calmly whispered, surprising everyone in the process. The blackness of her eyes shifted with her mood to a warmer amber. 

 

“If you want to do that with a cake that’s sure to wipe out half your villagers, then be my guest, Snow,” the Queen hummed.

 

Regina heaved a sigh of relief at the backhanded way the Queen accepted Snow’s gesture. “Emma and I will ask Granny to make the cake,” she insisted. “We’ll help out in any way we can, but it will be up to you and Swan to decide how the party comes together.”

 

Snow beamed brightly and hurried to sit down on the couch beside Regina, the Queen and Swan.

 

“We’ll be in touch.” Swan concluded, and in a billowing cloud of magic, vanished from the living room with the Queen and Selena.

 

Emma ran her fingers through her messy, unbrushed hair and then crossed her arms to encase the frustration before it burst out of her. “Great, well, guess that’s everything sorted.” She said dryly, and made it two steps towards the door before realizing that one, she didn’t have her car, and two, she was still in her pajamas. She gave a wave of her hand and transformed the pink plaid into a pair of skinny jeans and a red sweater. “If anyone needs me I’ll be at Granny’s asking her to bake a cake, apparently.”

 

Regina resented Emma’s grudging attitude, and frowned irritably as she caught up with her at the door. In a flash of magic, she altered her own outfit to a clinging grey dress and heels that clicked angrily when she moved. “Thank you for babysitting Selena,” she called out, and then Snow and David were left alone in their apartment with perplexed expressions on their faces.

 

“Emma, what is the problem?” Regina demanded, as she stopped her on the landing before Emma could rush down the stairs. 

 

“You mean besides playing negotiator between your darker half and my parents, or the fact that I was rudely awoken only to be brought here with magic before I’d even washed my face?” Emma shrugged, her arms flapping outwards only for her hands to slap against her thighs as if that made a statement all on its own. “Now I get to grab my breakfast with a side of gossip, because great news Storybrooke! Our doppelgängers are having a celebration, hosted by Snow and Charming.”

 

A noise of annoyance clawed its way free of her as Emma began to walk down the steps, “Which is _fantastic_ because now the whole town can talk about us before we even go on our first date, and yeah,” She said pointedly, pushing the door open to step into the bright morning light. “I’d planned on asking you this morning over the coffee we never had.” Evidently, all of this combined left Emma incredibly miffed.

 

Regina seemed less hostile when Emma finished her rant with mentions of a date. “So, we’ll just have to go out this evening,” she insisted. “It’ll take a few days before Snow can send out the invitations, though word of mouth will be faster. At least we can go home with each other tonight without drawing as much attention as we will if we choose to wait.” She grasped Emma by the hand and halted her with a desirous look and enough sexual tension to turn heads. “Where do you want to _take_ me?” she asked thickly. 

 

A slow heat spread up Emma’s neck and colored her cheeks pink. “I was thinking Thomas O’Malley’s,” She said to their joined hands, before looking at Regina and squaring her shoulders confidently. “You know he partnered with the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker? The place is really nice inside, and I thought you’d prefer somewhere less obvious than the main restaurants in town so nobody gawks at us.”

 

“I’ll meet you there at seven?” Regina proposed, and then backed away from Emma and Granny’s as if remembering a chore she had forgotten to do. “We’ll be more inconspicuous if we arrive separately.” She pointed a finger at Emma and waved it around as she finished up their little chat with a tip. “Choose a nice cake for Swan and the Queen – something understated but also decadent.” 

 

Emma turned to roll her eyes before she pushed the door to Granny’s open and stepped into the busy diner.

 

 

 

Across town, Swan had fetched a small, though pretty basin and filled it with tepid water. She hovered by the Queen, fingers itching to hold Selena once more, but she knew better than to simply take the child. “Perhaps you’d like to bathe our daughter after she spent the night at Snow’s.” It was a reasonable assumption, even if she did clutch the smallest orange and black striped baby towel. The one she’d so boasted to Regina about purchasing. “We can wrap her in this afterwards.” She suggested, a tinge of eagerness to her tone she couldn’t conceal. “I think she’ll like it.” Yet, as she held it to her side, the look on her face said quite clearly that it was the Queen she hoped who would approve.

 

The Queen showed only distaste by pursing her lips and sparing a mere glance at the little towel. But Swan’s enthusiasm touched her heart, and she snapped her forefinger and thumb to fill their own tub with steamy bath water. Then she passed the baby to Swan so that she could shed her own clothes and let her hair down. She submerged herself in the lukewarm water and reached to take the baby back from Swan’s arms. 

 

Pressing the little one against her breasts, the Queen cradled her above the water and silently indicated for Swan to grab a washcloth. “Do you think you can clean her while I hold her?” she murmured. “It’s much easier when I do it this way.”

 

“Of course.” Swan lilted, her hands pushing up her sleeves to the elbow. She knelt by the tub and selected a soft, white washcloth, then applied the smallest amount of liquid soap specifically for infants. Gracefully, Swan dipped it into the water and rubbed it in her palm until a light lather began that she delicately rubbed along Selena’s back. Little circles formed with such care that Swan could barely feel the child beneath her fingertips. It was, perhaps, the most wondrous thing she’d ever experienced and it filled her heart with such radiance that she felt blinded by it. Salty unshed tears blurred her vision but a moment, and then she blinked them back. Cupping her hands, Swan scooped water from the tub and rinsed the bubbles from Selena’s skin. “She likes the water.” She said, a tentative smile curving her lips as if she were unaware of it.

 

Selena made a gleeful screeching noise as water splashed over her, and then she scrunched her face seriously as she watched Swan’s hands drift through the tub, completely intrigued by their fast movements. 

 

The Queen serenely kissed the baby’s brow, but something still burned inside of her and began to show on her face, like embers disintegrating hard wood. Her cheeks glowed hotly at first, and then came the unexpected cave in, crumbling her violently and forcing harsh words from her mouth. “These moments must be _so dear_ to you,” she sneered. “So many firsts, so much that you have to catch up on.”

 

The harshness tainted what should have been a tender moment between all three of them, and Swan’s hand stilled in the water as cold as unpleasant feelings twisted inside her gut. Yet when she spoke her voice was airy, and her gaze remained on the dying ripples in the water. “Aren’t you tired of this?” She questioned, rinsing off the washcloth to drape it over the faucet. Swan rose from her knees to look down at the Queen curiously. “All of the bickering, the hostility, the deliberate sabotaging of every memory we attempt to create—” 

 

“No,” the Queen pettily enunciated, snapping her teeth around the syllable like she was biting off Swan’s accusatory finger. “Nor will I ever tire of ruining this for you. It pleases me to see you so utterly crushed.” The bluff rolled acidly from her tongue before she could check her maliciousness, and she scooped the baby up to pass her to Swan. She rose from the tub to continue her verbal attack. “You deserve to be punished for more than five minutes for what you did,” she quietly seethed. “I waited twelve months for you to return, but selfish as ever, you retreated to lick your own wounds and never gave any thought to me.” She lifted the soft baby towel, glanced down at the tiger marks and then flipped the hood around to get a better look at the Tigger character. “I had a terrible pregnancy. Taking a bath has always soothed me. I suspect our baby picked up on that, because you’re _right_ : she loves the water.” 

 

The Queen composed herself enough to soften. Tucking the tigger towel around the baby, she raised the hood over her head, so that the tiny orange ears stuck out. The adorable sight choked her up, and the Queen beamed radiantly as she spoke to their child. “The wonderful thing about tiggers is tiggers are wonderful things,” she quietly announced, then peered back at Swan’s hard face before carrying the baby out to the nursery.

 

When it seemed like Swan might stalk off instead of following, the Queen called out to her. “Where do you think you’re going? Did you think I was going to sing that entire ridiculous song to our daughter by myself? You purchased this towel, Swan. I suggest you start practicing your vocals.” 

 

The temperature in the air dropped around Swan, the darkness in her eyes threatened to engulf them whole. Precarious as her mask was, she kept it until the Queen walked out with their child and then, and only then, in the privacy of the room did she allow herself to suck in a silent stuttered breath. The Queen knew she hadn’t abandoned her, yet persisted with such vicious attacks that were, despite the madness, perfectly crafted and cruel enough to make Swan want to retaliate. Just as it seemed she might, the sound of Selena making soft noises reminded her exactly why she could not.

 

“And I suggest you rid yourself of these delusions you cling to,” Swan lilted as she followed the Queen. “Say what you want to me but not in front of our daughter. I won’t have her mind poisoned with lies.”

 

The Queen carefully dried the baby and kissed the back of her chubby little hand, all while glaring hatefully up at Swan. Neither of them would budge on the issue, that much was clear – and the Queen could not for a second suppress her urge to slander Swan. She whispered directly into the baby’s ear, “Your other mother left us to fend for ourselves. She thinks sending a few messages by pigeon somehow exonerates her. But she never returned for us. She lacks what Emma possesses – that noble inclination to save the people she cares about.” Her soft rumbling tone had a soothing, lullaby quality to it, for the baby’s benefit but also for Swan.

 

Some part of the Queen wanted physical contact, for Swan to hold her and capitulate and take responsibility, but that would require too much of them emotionally; what she wanted more than that was to provoke Swan, to get into her head so she could inspire a confrontation that would end not only explosively, but also sensually. 

 

Selena remained solemnly watchful as her parents argued, and the Queen rubbed soothing patterns on her tiny back. 

 

But insanity would no longer stand as an excuse for the kind of behaviors the Queen exhibited. 

 

Even with full knowledge that the whole point of what the Queen was doing was solely to provoke her, Swan felt herself slipping icily into the depths of darkness that offered reassurance and whispers of vindication. _She hates you. She blames you. She wants to fight. She’s turning the child against you. Stop her. Hurt her. Overpower her._ Every utterance from the Queen sliced through her skin like a sharpened blade and stuck rigidly into bone. Swan felt her fury inside her course through her veins like acid. “You’ve gone too far.” She warned quietly, deceptively calm as she reigned in the response to lash out and destroy everything in her path.

 

Instead, Swan delivered her revenge in a way she knew the Queen wouldn’t expect. With a slight twitch of her fingers and a slow, sinister smirk, she breathed, “If you can’t say anything nice, then you won’t say anything at all.” 

 

Oh, the Queen could still talk. Swan wouldn’t rob her of her voice entirely, but the second she tried to form anything less than civil on her tongue she’d find it stuck to the roof of her mouth.

 

Swan turned on her heel and sauntered towards the kitchen, feeling a slight buzz from the way she’d handled the situation. “I’m going to make us breakfast.” She informed the Queen.

 

The Queen breathed through her nose as she attempted to spew venom, but her tongue would simply not cooperate. Burdened by all of that volatility without any outlet, the Queen’s eyes watered and an uncomfortable lump rose in her throat. She sat and stewed in her own bitterness for a while, then lingered in the nursery to dress Selena in a fleecy romper. She summoned a plush robe to cover herself. 

 

It occurred to the Queen that she could avoid Swan entirely if she wanted, and yet that would be almost the same as standing down. Instead she paraded into the kitchen, looking unaffected and seductive, and so docile when she was playing with their baby. The Queen dangled a soft toy swan above Selena, and the little one curled her fingers around its wing. 

 

The Queen moved around the kitchen to keep Selena happy, sidestepping Swan as she cooked. “How sweet of you to make me breakfast,” she cooed, although her facial expression conveyed another message altogether. “What is it you’re serving me, apart from a big helping of compulsory kindness?” 

 

If Swan felt amused she certainly had the sense to keep it to herself as she whisked eggs, herbs and cheese together in a bowl. “Scrambled egg and toast, with some fresh fruit and coffee.” She motioned towards the brewing pot and poured her mixture into the hot pan to stir. The toast popped up from the toaster a moment later and she left it there to remain warm as she cooked. She moved around the kitchen with ease, as if she’d done this a hundred times, and plated the toast with a thick spread of butter, then scooped the steaming eggs onto the side. She sat a plate in front of the Queen and brought her a coffee, before finally chopping some strawberries and bananas to toss with raspberries. She drizzled the fruit with honey and slid the bowl across the table.

 

“Are you going to play nice?” Swan asked, quirking a pale eyebrow at the thunderous look on the Queen’s face. She took her seat across from her and handed over a fork, all the while doubting the Queen had any intentions of being anything less than rabid. 

 

Taking a bite of her own toast, Swan chewed thoughtfully and watched the way Selena gummed the plush toy enthusiastically.

 

“You see what our daughter is doing to that toy?” The Queen asked in a deceptively sugary tone. “That’s what I want to do to you, Swan.” She poked at a strawberry with her fork and brought it to her plump lips in an obscene way, digging her teeth in and smiling as she sucked on her first bite. “Make of that what you will.” For as much undisguised contempt that was present in her face, there was also a clear sexual ferocity and energy that revealed she liked being bested by Swan. 

 

Swan’s little spell inspired plenty of bad feelings, unsettling the Queen inside the same way an extreme rainstorm upsets even the bottom of a lake. But in some perverse manner, it also kicked up better memories, like more precious stones from where they were embedded in deep muck. She wanted to _destroy_ Swan, but also to rip her leather off and spend an afternoon getting reacquainted with her body. 

 

Swan smirked slowly, the red of her lips parting over white teeth that clamped around another piece of toast. She hummed low in her throat, a noise more befitting the bedroom than kitchen, and licked the crumbs away with a languid stroke of her tongue as she held the Queen’s gaze. “You’ve always been expressive that way.” Swan mused, sitting back to take in the heated stare the Queen was boring into her. “It’s almost artistic, the way you’d paint my body with angry reds, passionate purple bruises, and the tender flushes of pink. Something tells me you’d like to tear me apart.” Swan concluded, looking anything but displeased by the fact. “I might enjoy that.”

 

The Queen confirmed Swan’s assumption with a charged glance, then she slid a piece of banana into her mouth. “Might?” she purred, rolling her shoulders lazily as if that sort of uncertainty put her off. “I know how much you appreciate. . . my – _‘vim and vigor.’_ ” She glowered as found herself quite incapable of using any vulgar or indecent language with Swan. 

 

Swan’s dark eyes sparkled, as if suddenly realizing the full effect of the spell and the limitations the Queen now faced. “Yes, I’m usually a fan of your ‘zest and zeal.’” She taunted, a slow, cheshire like grin spreading across her face as she picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip. “You know, if you want to fuck me, all you have to do is say so.” It wasn’t particularly fair, but Swan enjoyed antagonizing the Queen if only to see how she’d react.

 

The Queen sucked on her teeth and rocked a bit smugly in her chair. “And why would I want that, when you’re doing such an adequate job of it yourself?” she replied with a glowing, friendly smile. “Just remember that by limiting my freedom of speech, you’re no better than everyone else that limited my freedoms in other ways. You want me to be civil for our daughter’s sake, and maybe I should have respected that, but there’s a lot I wanted from you that you never gave me. Like _multiple_. . . “ She frowned at the unexpected censorship, and her inability to ridicule Swan’s sexual prowess. “Multiple or—orga——o’s—oreos.” The stupid, forced euphemism made her eyes darken stormily. “I suppose complaining is off-limits too?”

 

Swan tipped her head to the side with a sly blink, and produced an entire pack of oreos in a puff of grey magic. She placed them on the table between them as if she had no idea what kind of condescending remark the Queen had been trying to make. “Help yourself.” The breezy tone gave nothing away, despite the way her chest tightened at the reminder of what had happened, and what she was now doing. She whisked her fingers through the air and removed the spell as though swatting at a fly. “Maybe?” Swan scoffed, leaning back in the chair with her arm draped over the empty seat next to her. “Freedom of speech doesn’t mean you get to whisper heinous things to our daughter about me. Whatever hatred for me you harbor, whatever blame you wish to brand me with, know that not even _I_ would have done what you did.”

 

Appetite sufficiently lost, Swan lifted her plate and disposed of the waste, then she picked up Selena and left the room.

 

The Queen shoved the pack of oreos off the table, hard enough to make every cookie scatter. 

 

_Later that Day_

 

Regina wore a belted leather jacket over a tight black dress for their first date, complete with the perfect fuck-me heels that drew plenty of attention to her legs. She strolled through the parking lot outside of the pub with so much swagger and confidence that someone who caught sight of her from behind had actually whistled loudly and hollered out, “Oh, yeah, give it to me baby!” 

 

The man promptly swallowed his tongue when she whipped around and faced him with an incinerating stare. 

 

“Shit, Mayor—Queen—Majesty,” he gulped, retreating into the alley before she could properly identify him. 

 

Regina flashed a little smile to herself. If he hadn’t been catcalling, she would have been a bit disheartened by his reaction to her, but he deserved to be intimidated for behaving so impudently. 

 

She was in a good mood, and it lasted up until she entered the pub and noticed Emma hadn’t shown up. Ordering a drink before dinner seemed like the best way to keep herself occupied, but Regina sipped at it long enough for the ice to melt. 

 

_Emma would have some explaining to do._

 

Sitting at the traffic light on Main Street, Emma glanced at her watch and cringed. “Fuck.” _She was late_ , and it wasn’t because she’d spent over an hour choosing her outfit. She’d left with plenty of time to spare – and had even picked up flowers first.

 

Belle had been a little coy as she’d arranged the bouquet, noting that red roses were often for sweethearts. Emma had ignored her pointedly, or rather, she’d turned pink and refused to acknowledge it even as Belle had grinned and wished her luck giving them to _whoever_ she was seeing. Emma had been on her way to O’Malley’s when, out of the blue, her beloved bug had rolled over a broken bottle she swore she never saw on the road, and it popped a tire. Thankfully she was right down the street from Tillman’s and she ran off to fetch him for help.

 

A hundred bucks and twenty minutes later she was rolling again, but just as she stopped at the intersection she saw Leroy drunkenly yelling at one of the other dwarves. Nothing new there, but when he took off his boot to throw it in anger, it missed Happy and cracked a store window. 

 

“Son of a bitch.” Emma had muttered, and hopped out of her car to calm and restrain Leroy. After a quick trip back to the station to lock him up for the night, and the pile of damn paperwork she needed to fill out for the accident report, she had suddenly realized it was quarter to seven. 

 

Emma had flown down main street as fast as legally possible, and she was confident she was going to be at the bar with five minutes to spare, but then Archie had spotted her and waved her down. 

 

Pongo had gotten loose again, and now here she was, standing in Mr. Thumbs’ backyard, waving a dog biscuit to coax Pongo out of the bushes that he’d dived into when he caught sight of her. 

 

“Come on, please.” Emma whispered, shaking the treat harder as though it would magically work better. 

 

Pongo crept out, inched closer, then raced towards her in excitement. Filthy paws landed on her freshly pressed, pristine black trousers as he excitedly jumped up to greet her. “Seriously?” She sighed, hooking his leash onto his collar as he chewed the treat.

 

“Oh you found him,” Archie’s relief colored his words as he stopped himself short of hugging Emma. “Thank you Sheriff, thank you.”

 

“No problem. Just get someone to secure your gate.” Emma stated, wiping the mud from her thighs with a grimace. By the time she pulled into the parking lot, it was almost twenty to eight, and the fact that Regina hadn’t texted or called only filled her with dread. 

 

Emma tugged on her red leather jacket self consciously and was relieved that her dark charcoal button up shirt was at least still clean and crease proof, even if her pants looked like she’d slid through the park on her knees. 

 

The bouquet of flowers had wilted, somehow, and they drooped pathetically as she pushed her way into the bar. She wondered if it had been the heat of her car as her eyes frantically searched for Regina. When she spotted her, all the moisture in Emma’s mouth dried up and she made her way over with an apologetic slant to her lips. “Hi.” She breathed, stopping short of offering the sad looking flowers to Regina. “I’m sorry I’m late. You look…” Emma shook her head, and ever eloquent blurted, “hot as fuck. Can I get you another drink before we order dinner?”

 

Regina’s gaze flitted over the haggard-looking flowers, which slumped and scattered petals from their stems, then she briefly stared at the same red leather jacket that Emma always wore. She let her eyes trail down to Emma’s filthy pants, and her lip tightened thoughtfully. 

 

It was the fact that Emma hadn’t thought to make use of magic to fix her appearance, and the almost tragically hopeful look on her face, which prevented Regina from immediately lashing out. “Sure, but I am way ahead of you. This will be my third,” she emphasized. 

 

Regina watched as Emma sat down in their booth, then studied Emma for a long moment while she floundered to come up with a compliment. “I would say you clean up well, but that would be a lie,” she snorted. “It seems you didn’t clean up at all.”

 

Emma tossed the flowers onto the seat next to her and shrugged out of her jacket just in time for her bright smile to freeze at Regina’s assumption. “Yeah, I must look like hell.” She joked, and slung her jacket over the back of her chair. “Long day,” She added, and stuck her hand into her pocket to grab her wallet with a tight smile. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back from the bar.”

 

Emma ordered herself a shot of whisky, a pint of beer, and a glass of red wine for Regina. She handed over the cash, slammed back the whisky, and picked up her drinks with a grateful smile. Though as she turned to walk back to the table, a burly man playing darts stumbled back and slammed straight into her. Emma’s beer sloshed and tipped, spilling across her shirt. He muttered a deep, “Shit, sorry. Next one’s on me.” and signaled to the bartender to bring her another. “Thanks.” Emma grunted, and made her way back to the table to set the wine down in front of Regina. At the look on Regina’s face, Emma sank into her seat heavily and reiterated, “Yeah, long day.”

 

“Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter,” Regina assured her, and pushed a hand across the table to squeeze Emma’s hand in solidarity. “You’re coming home with me tonight, and then you can take those clothes right off.” Her fingers circled around the stem of her wine glass, and then she lifted it to clink against Emma’s beer mug. 

 

Regina decided to finally undo the belt at her waist and slip off her own leather jacket, revealing her low necked dress at a well-timed moment when that Emma’s eyes drifted down to her chest. With a coy curl of her lips, Regina rolled her shoulders casually and leaned forward, as if she had no idea that the front of her dress slipped even lower and showed off the tops of her breasts. “Would you like to play a game of pool before we eat dinner?” she asked, so consciously aware that the activity would require frequent bending. 

 

Emma had been hungry before, but now her mouth watered for entirely different reasons as her eyes feasted on the sight in front of her. “Oh yeah.” She nodded, her eyes belatedly moving back to Regina’s face as her own heated with a blush. She’d definitely been caught staring. Gulping down what little beer had been left in her cup, Emma used magic to dry her shirt and got to her feet expectantly. “So, what’s the wager?” She teased, quirking an eyebrow as she offered Regina her hand and led them to the pool table. “Money or something else?” It was a playful remark as she handed Regina a pool cue, and snagged one for herself. She flashed a cocky grin. “Go ahead Madam Mayor, show me what you got.”

 

Regina chalked up her pool cue, and then she wrangled the balls in their rack. She flicked the hair out of her face, and then leaned fully over the table while Emma stood behind her, treated to a great view of her ass. Her dress rode up as she finished readying their game, only standing back after Emma had finished ogling her. “You name your prize, and I’ll name mine,” she smirked, unaware of how similar she was to the Queen in the art of dealing making. “If I win, I’d like your red leather jacket. I’ll even let you break.”

 

Laughter bubbled up and spilled from Emma’s lips, rich and warm as she considered it. “That jacket is priceless to me.” Her eyes flicked over to it unconsciously but the dare in Regina’s gaze had her hooked. “Alright, you want my jacket, then I want…” Emma paused, her chin lifting as she sucked on her teeth thoughtfully. It was on the tip of her tongue to say her apple tree just to mess with her, but she didn’t want it. There wasn’t a particular item Regina owned that held the same sentimentality to it. Stumped, Emma pursed her lips and found her eyes raking over Regina once more. “Your panties.” She suddenly blurted, because the risk had to be on the same level, and Regina walking around commando would probably scandalize her. “If I win, you have to step into the bathroom and remove them for me.”

 

Regina froze in shock as Emma named her terms, but then she threw out her hand to shake on their playful contract. “If you win, then I’ll give you my panties,” she declared, and sassily scrunched her nose as she beckoned Emma over to the table to start the game. 

 

Emma took the first shot and sank two striped balls into different corner pockets. 

 

Regina observed the swagger in her hips with more than a little animosity. “I didn’t expect you to be such a formidable opponent,” Regina hummed, although she arched her eyebrows in a way that said otherwise. She counted on Emma to be a formidable opponent—the only opponent worthy of sparring with on a regular basis. 

 

Regina deliberately broke Emma’s concentration by squeezing past her, and pushing her backside against the front of Emma’s pants. She managed to get the green ball into the center pocket, then used an intense look to make Emma miss an easier shot during her turn. “What a pity,” she clucked. “I thought you had that.”

 

Flustered by Regina’s proximity, Emma signaled the bartender and got her free beer sent over. She drank half of it and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “You’re cheating.” She accused, and wet her lips as she tried to even the playing field.

 

It came to her when Regina bent over to take another shot. Hurriedly, Emma pulled her shirt off to reveal the black tank top beneath and her muscular arms. It must have worked because Regina scattered three balls without sinking any and Emma flashed a competitive grin. “You know, I always thought you _knew_ how to break balls.” She teased, chalking her cue.

 

“Very funny.” Regina drew in a sharp breath of air through flaring nostrils, then strutted around towards Emma to closely observe her next move. “Someone’s awfully confident that she’s going to _get it in,_ ” she richly husked. She lingered to squeeze Emma’s bicep appreciatively, taking her time to feel the hard and well-cut muscle. “Don’t lose that confidence.”

 

Flexing her arm just for Regina's benefit, Emma smirked at the back and forth going on between them. "The only one losing anything will be you." She asserted cockily, directing her eyes at Regina’s skirt and imagining the black lace underneath that would soon be hers. She promptly sank another striped ball with ease. Though as she leaned forward to strike another, Emma’s gaze went to Regina's breasts and she sent the white ball into a corner pocket. "Shit." She muttered.

 

Regina triumphantly brushed by Emma to retrieve the white ball. “You were saying?” she asked, spinning the ball in her hand with a smug grin on her face. Holding the ball like a piece of luscious fruit, Regina paraded around Emma to find the best possible spot for it. “If you need me to even out the competition, Emma, I’ll have another drink.” 

 

It might have been a ploy to get Emma to leave the table, so that she could ponder her shot and successfully sink it without any interference. She did exactly that when Emma went to the bar, but then Emma came back with a vengeance. 

 

Regina hardly sipped her wine when Emma somehow managed to get two more balls in at once, with a single hard thrust of her stick. 

 

It took them two more turns each before Emma finished off the game and expected an immediate reward for her victory. Emma crossed her arms and smiled, so pleased with herself as she stuck out her hand. 

 

“Yes, I know that I owe you,” Regina stressed. “I’ll just excuse myself before I have to listen to you gloat.” 

 

A few streets away, the Evil Queen was gloating for reasons of her own as she spied on them with a mirror. She clutched the handle loosely, and lowered it away from her face while she moved through the house in search of Swan and Selena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed! :)
> 
> We also have Twitter now, if anyone wants to follow us: @emmaswanreginam  
> Our tumblrs are still the same.


	13. Chapter 13

If not for a knock at the door, the evening might have passed more peacefully than the morning. 

 

The Queen had been intending to go upstairs, but she paused mid stride by the staircase, and wandered back towards the foyer. 

 

She peered with curiosity through the glass door at her waiting visitors, then down at her half-open robe. Hastily, she used magic to dress in snakeskin leather pants, and a bodice that still presented her cleavage. 

 

Before the Queen could open the door, Snow White reached for the brass knocker and rapped again.

 

Beside Snow, the Blue Fairy stood in her matronly robes, clutching a small vial that might have been holy water to splash in the face of ultimate Evil, or a tonic for lip fungus, or a shrew-wart potion to temper the mood of the antisocial. The Queen stopped herself from making further guesses, and grandly opened the door for her guests, as if they were more than welcome in her home. 

 

“Let me guess, you’re selling Girl Scout cookies,” the Queen drawled thickly, glaring down her nose pointedly at Blue. “Are sales that bad that you brought the troop leader along?” 

 

The Queen assumed this was about the baby’s ceremony, but Snow surprised her.

 

“Regina, we’d like to talk to you privately,” Snow murmured, with so much softness and apology in her tone. “It’s about the wishverse. Blue thinks there’s some way it’s affecting our world. Apparently she felt something so powerful that it left her shaking. It happened just a few days before your arrival here in town—“

 

“Say no more,” the Queen smiled devilishly, as if Snow’s explanation had somehow changed the entire purpose of the visit from business to _pleasure._ “I bitch slapped the wishverse Blue Fairy so hard that you must have felt it across all the realms.” The memory of slapping the fairy with so much force that she sailed across the room like a tennis ball brought a deeply satisfied grin to the Queen’s face. “You do have truly impressive aerodynamics. You went much further than I expected—“

 

The Blue Fairy pursed her lips together and refused to rise to the Queen’s taunts. 

 

“If you pucker your lips any harder, you might collapse in on yourself.” Swan drawled from behind the Queen. She stopped just short of the door to loom over the duo. “Why are you here?” She bluntly enunciated, enjoying the panicked way Snow glanced towards the insufferable fairy.

 

When it became clear that Snow couldn’t find her words, or _apparently her spine,_ which was lodged somewhere in the memories of Mary Margaret, Blue took over with the no-nonsense attitude any dictator saved for insubordinates. “We have nothing to say to you, Dark One. Our business is with The Evil Queen, and we must discuss it urgently. _Alone_ ,” she tacked on with a snide look.

 

A flicker of contempt curled Swan’s lip in warning. “You can speak to _The Queen_ when you’ve learned to address her properly. Until then, you can take your tiny vial, and your self righteous ass, and get off my property before I turn you into glitter—”

 

Snow looked aghast, and hurriedly sputtered, “Emma, she didn’t mean--”

 

“Oh yes she did.” Swan shot back, her hard gaze locked with Blue’s in an unwavering stare.

 

“This is hardly the time for petty verbal attacks,” the Blue Fairy sniffed in insult. “I am here to help you. Frankly I’m affronted that no one thought to inform me of your presence in this town. I would have come to you sooner.” She gave a sidelong glance at Snow, a subtly chastising move that she followed up by holding out her hand with the vial. “I understand that the Queen gave birth to a child in the wish realm. This is a gift intended to safeguard and protect.”

 

The Queen lifted her hand as if to accept the offering, but then flung it away with a little fizzle of magic. 

 

The glass shattered into shards and the potion spilled everywhere, turning a blackened color as it thickened into ooze. 

 

“That certainly doesn’t look like it’s safe for an infant,” the Queen remarked, her voice dangerously wet, as if she was salivating as she locked her teeth in perfect, predatory rows. “What would happen if I forced you to lick it off the ground?”

 

“It’s not that type of potion,” Snow hastily chimed in. She seemed helpless, on the verge of explaining so much, and yet unable to succinctly get her point across. “It’s meant to be thrown at an enemy, and now you’ve wasted the Blue Fairy’s last stores of it—“

 

“This is why I never offered to help you when you were young and lost, Regina,” the Blue Fairy calmly stated. “You don’t know how to accept good council, and you always act impulsively. Even during those few times that you solicited my aid, I could foresee the outcomes you were bound to bring about – “ She meditatively tucked her hands together, and produced an orb that glowed too brightly in its stark white brilliance – enough to burn the eyes of any mortal who stared too directly. “This globe has been in my possession for eons. It is one of the many fairy artifacts that whispers to us. It tells us where our gifts are needed, and allows us to hear the voices of anyone crying out to us for protection. After I felt the disturbance in my bones, the orb revealed your need to me. There are precious few times when it has been wrong, but I hope for your sake that your family is under no threat.” 

 

The harsh criticisms and equally harsh truths spouted from the insipid fairy riled Swan into action. She surged forward to block the Queen from view. “Nothing is going to hurt my family. I won’t let it.” She seethed, the tendons in her neck taut from barely suppressed outrage. “The only threat right now is you, so I suggest you take your orb and shove it back where it belongs, before I find a new residence for it _up your_ \--”

 

“Alright, well, we’ve said what we came to say!” Snow cut in, with a weary look towards Swan that said more than anything that this was exactly the kind of attitude she dealt with from Emma. “We’ll be telling your— _well_ — _our_ versions of you—all of this tomorrow because it’s important that we’re prepared for whatever it is this time—”

 

There was no quip on Swan’s tongue as she stepped back inside, only a cold sneer as she slammed the door in their faces. “Fools.” She breathed, and yet now a seed of worry had been planted in her mind, and no amount of trying would dig it back out.

 

The Queen’s eyes widened, bulging ever so briefly in a manic haze. Alarm gripped her by the throat, but she steadied her limbs and forced herself to take a stuttered breath. “You defended me,” she muttered, unable to hide the tinge of shock that crept into her voice as she swung around to stare at Swan. 

 

When they looked at each other, her eyes changed like melting chocolate, from hard to soft and gooey. Then she played it off by fussing with her tight bodice, pretending to brush away some bit of lint. “I need to nurse Selena,” she rumbled, and pushed the compact mirror she had been clutching into Swan’s hands. “While I’m doing that, why don’t you watch a little TV? There’s a special on tonight that will interest you. Something about swans and their mating rituals.” 

 

Swan rolled her eyes at the suggestion yet ventured into the living room to sink heavily onto the couch. She rubbed her thumb thoughtfully over the compact mirror and opened it. “What have you been doing?” She mused quietly, as the reflection shimmered and shifted to show Emma and Regina sitting at a booth.

 

“No, I’m serious.” Emma laughed, splaying one hand out across the table while her other clutched a near empty pint glass. “My wildest night as Sheriff was when Tim the baker got drunk off his ass, and ran all over town pulling pranks at two in the morning. Do you know how hard it is to run after a guy that’s six feet tall? All while he’s cackling and yelling ‘ _you can’t catch me I’m the Gingerbread Man!_ ’ Eventually he tried to jump a fence, and fell into a bush. I almost pissed myself laughing at him. He was mortified the next day when he sobered up.”

 

They were swapping stories, things they hadn’t told one another in between saving the town and everyone in it. Unsurprisingly, it was fun, probably the most she had in a long time. 

 

Emma grinned crookedly at Regina and finished off her beer just before their meals arrived. A nice, juicy looking burger was placed in front of her. She snagged a fry to chew and waved her hand. “Out with it,” she teased Regina. “Wildest thing that happened to you as Mayor, and anything related to budgeting doesn’t count.”

 

Regina’s smile could light the room, it was so bright—and her mesmerizing eyes seemed to catch every ray of happiness that radiated from her. “A topless protest,” she softly chuckled. “There weren’t that many women involved, but it was certainly memorable. It happened after Graham arrested a local woman for public indecency. She was wandering around the beach when families were out with their children. It became a wider spread issue not because of her, but because of breastfeeding mothers and public outcry over their partial nudity. I felt proud of the women in this town, although I’ll admit I appreciated their chosen form of civil disobedience for more than one reason.” She plucked up her steak knife, and sliced her meat into thin strips before she took her first bite. 

 

“Speaking of breasts, I noticed you staring at mine the very first time we met,” Regina smirked. “I still recall the dumbstruck look on your face, and I could have sworn you were going to act on your attraction back then. But after the curse broke, you became so different. It was almost like you had never cared what anyone thought about you before, but all of that changed when you realized who you were to the people in this town—“ 

 

The groan that clawed its way up Emma’s throat was embarrassed and pained, and she let her head fall back to complete her dramatic display of misery. “First of all, what was I supposed to do when you ran down the steps and they greeted me with this perky little jostling bounce? I have eyes. I couldn’t help it. And second of all, that day I came into your office with Sidney, you basically undressed me in your mind. I’ve never felt so naked while I was fully clothed before. I thought you were ready to pull me across your desk.” 

 

Wishful thinking, perhaps, but Emma’s grin was nothing short of dazzling as she leaned closer to Regina as if trading secrets. “When the curse broke I suddenly had the family I’d been looking for, and they were from fairytales. You know what I never saw in those growing up? Someone like me. I gained parents and lost a piece of myself in the process because back then I was too afraid to continue being who I was, in case they decided I didn’t fit into their happy little story. Overnight I went from being my own person to being the town’s savior, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. It still feels absurd.” She sighed, then shrugged as she sat back with a lopsided smile. “I couldn’t be a devil-may-care asshole after the curse broke, because everyone looked at me differently. Treated me differently. Except you. I think I sought you ought so much after that because you were the only one who made me feel normal. I was still just a pain in your ass.”

 

Regina’s face reflected the emotional journey she took as she considered all that Emma blurted out at top speed. “Wait, did you just describe me as perky?” she snapped, and then rolled her eyes at Emma’s particular wording, knowing full well that it was a descriptor of her breasts and not her personality. “I’ll be honest: I preferred the old Emma, and the more we spend time together, the more I’ve started to see her again. She’s bolder and brighter than the color of her ugly car. Assertive with her opinions even when she’s not asked to share them, and never one to stop fighting for herself or anyone else she cares about. You’re not at all normal, and you never will be. You are exceptional.” She raised her wine glass to that, and chinked it against Emma’s almost drained pint. “And I’m fine with you continuing to be a pain in my ass, as long as you’re a _pleasure_ somewhere else, too,” Regina lilted suggestively. 

 

“On that note,” Emma’s tone turned sly. Her free hand delved into her pocket in a not so subtle move to feel the silky piece of fabric that could barely be called panties. “I couldn’t help but notice that these weren’t exactly dry when you handed them over. Do you always get excited in the face of a challenge? I can only imagine how many pairs you ruined when I first came to town.” Emma concluded smugly, and brought her fingers up to her nose to lightly sniff the faint scent of Regina’s musky arousal before waving at the bartender to send them another round. “Since we’re being honest, I preferred the old you too. When you split from the Queen it felt like you lost that fire that makes you _you._ It was like you didn’t have any bite left. Without a touch of darkness, all the snark had gone. I missed it, you know?” Emma’s grin turned wry as she shook her head. Who the hell was she kidding? “I missed you. It’s good to have you back.”

 

Regina puckered her lips coyly and quirked an eyebrow as she ate and drank, all too amused by Emma’s remarks and newfound obsession with her panties. “Maybe we learned something from losing parts of ourselves,” she softly pondered aloud. “At least we’ve found some of our missing pieces again, and we’ll do a better job of keeping them _safe_ in the future—” 

 

The bartender delivered their drinks, and cocked his head at Emma almost inconspicuously as he glanced down. Regina noticed immediately that her sheer little thong was dangling from Emma’s pocket. Without lingering to ask them about the food, the bartender turned and left. “ _Hopefully_ a better job than you’re doing right now of keeping my panties safe,” Regina husked. “But to be fair, you have been vigilantly guarding them up until now. I’ve never seen you pick at your food the way you’re currently doing. You usually grab for it with both hands, but your other hand has been in your pocket for at least an hour—“ 

 

If Emma felt embarrassed at getting caught, she showed no signs of it. If anything, she only grew cockier as she tucked the panties back out of sight. “Hey, I’m only making sure you haven’t used magic to put them back on. I mean, I can hardly believe you actually took them off.” That had been a definite surprise, but now every other thought in Emma’s head was that Regina Mills was sitting across from her, in a dress, with nothing on between her legs. The memory of last night repeated on a loop behind Emma’s eyes, when she’d been seconds away from touching Regina there.

 

Emma shifted in her seat as a throb of arousal tugged at her. Followed by a sudden slight discomfort and a tightening of her jeans. Bewildered, Emma shifted again, only to freeze, her eyes widening briefly as she felt ropes around her thighs, and snaring her waist. No, not ropes, _straps._ Concealing her panic, she flashed Regina a grin and covertly dropped her hand from the table to land on her crotch. Her fingers grasped the bulge beneath her pants and she knew, _instinctively,_ it was the one she had been eyeing for months in that damn shop. Whatever she had done to conjure it, Emma couldn’t seem to remove it. Which meant she had no option but to excuse herself and take it off manually. _Stupid fucking magic._

 

Inching herself closer to the table to stop anyone else seeing what lurked beneath her pants, Emma picked up her burger as if she weren’t having a panic attack and bit into it viciously. “Top three times you did something accidentally with magic?” She asked through the mouthful of food, her eyes flickering towards the bathroom.

 

Regina picked up on Emma’s sudden discomfort right away, but she attributed it to the blunder she had with the panties. Wiping her lips on a napkin, Regina paused eating long enough to realize Emma had leaned in. That prompted her to also shift in her seat, and slip her leg between both of Emma’s, angling herself just so that her bare knee could rub against Emma’s thigh. “My worst accidents occurred when I was first learning,” she admitted. “I had many more than three minor incidents, but there was only one true fiasco. I’m not sure I should tell you.” She stole a fry from Emma’s plate, mostly as an excuse to slide her knee over Emma’s trousers. “I’ll let you use your imagination, but it involved riding a _very_ angry dragon without any pants on in the middle of a snowstorm—“

 

Tingles shot up Emma’s thigh from the contact, and she all but choked on a gulp of beer when Regina’s knee moved upwards. She jolted slightly, and smoothed it over with laughter, “You’ve definitely had fun, haven’t you?” In the back of her mind, she wondered if it was Maleficent, but Regina licked the residual salt from her lower lip and Emma’s mind went all kinds of fuzzy after that. “Gotta run to the bathroom real quick, but when I get back I want details.” She informed Regina with a smirk, then slid out of her seat and ran to the restroom so fast she was basically a blur.

 

Emma rushed into the first empty stall she found and slammed the door shut. She dropped her pants and cringed. She hadn’t bought a pair of boxers and yet here they were on her, tented from the phallus strapped against her. 

 

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Emma shoved the boxers off her hips and began to furiously tug at the straps that fit snugly around her. The clasps remained stuck despite her best efforts and she clenched her teeth with a grunt. 

 

Breathing heavily as she raced against time, Emma’s fingers dug into the plastic and tried to wrench it free with a pained, tight-lipped growl. “Oh, come on!” She whispered frantically, only to have someone in the next stall stick their hand under with toilet paper. “ _Here, there’s plenty in this stall._ ” A muffled voice said, and she realized with horror that they assumed she must have been taking a huge -- “ _Shit._ ” Emma sputtered, “I mean thanks!” She grabbed the toilet paper and flung it into the bowl. She couldn’t be in here any longer or Regina would be thinking the same thing. Fuck.

 

Scrambling to pull up the boxers and her pants, Emma tried to tuck the phallus back in but it was so large against her leg that it looked obscene. She flushed the toilet and raced back into her seat before Regina had the chance to spot her. Then she all but panted, “So about this dragon. . . I didn’t by chance slay her at any point?”

 

“You did, but I put you up to it,” Regina replied, and flicked stray strands of hair away from her face as she honed in on Emma’s flustered appearance. “And because you’re now probably wondering, Maleficent and I had a _thing_ back in the Enchanted Forest, but it was nothing terribly serious. Are you going to tell me why you’re so nervous all of the sudden? Did I scare you off with my talk of mounting a dragon?” she teased. 

 

Pushing her plate aside to signal to the barkeep that she had finished her meal, Regina made an impulsive decision to get cozy with Emma. She stood up and joined her on the same side of the booth, then searched Emma’s eyes for the cause of her panic. Her search turned up nothing, and she failed to glance down to glimpse the source of the problem. “Play me at darts?” she proposed, with the hope that it would restore Emma’s calm. “Show off that arm of yours, and your good aim.”

 

Emma sucked on her teeth thoughtfully. If she stood up everyone would be able to see the ridiculous appendage stuck to her, and if she didn’t? Well, their night would likely start to dull, and she couldn’t have that. “Darts huh?” She quirked an eyebrow, the tip of her tongue pressing against a back molar as she raised her chin to settle Regina down with a challenging stare. The scent of her clouded Emma’s mind and she inhaled deeply to take in her expensive perfume, and the sweet hints of wine that clung to Regina’s breath. “Why don’t you go get us a board, and I’ll get us another round and cover dinner?”

 

Satisfied that Regina agreed, Emma waited until she walked off before trying her hand at a workaround. Just because it was stuck didn’t mean she couldn't use magic to conceal it. She felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner, but when she watched the tent in her pants vanish, yet still felt it, she heaved a sigh of relief. “I can work with that.” She muttered to herself, and swaggered to the bar to pay and get them another drink.

 

With her jacket draped over her arms, Regina threw Emma a fleeting glance and then strolled over to claim the dartboard in the more secluded area of the bar. 

 

While she waited, Regina slipped a small flask out of her jacket, and swallowed down a gulp of potion with a distinctly orange tincture. Her eyes burned but she coaxed another mouthful down her throat, and then jumped as Emma barreled over to her with their drinks. “Have a sip,” she offered, passing the flask over to Emma and gesturing in self-defense. “It’s my own little home remedy. A potion that prevents me from getting too intoxicated, but just keeps my buzz going nicely. The flavor is unfortunate. . . “ 

 

Emma took the flask with a dubious look, only to glare at Regina incredulously, “Seriously?” She hissed, brows furrowing in annoyance. “You’ve been letting me get trashed for years, leaving me with hangovers while I wondered how the hell you could handle so much liquor and it’s been _this_ all along.” She shook the flask as if brandishing a cross at a vampire, her eyes accusing even as she pressed it to her lips to take a sip. It coated her tongue instantly and she gagged on it. “Oh god,” Emma gasped, her face contorting in disgust. “It tastes like Satan’s asshole.”

 

Regina snatched the flask back from Emma and capped it before the stench of the potion filled the air with too much of its aroma. “That’s a close enough guess to what it actually is,” she confided. “It contains lots of spice, and it’s definitely not vegan.” 

 

“Don’t tell me anything else about it. That’s enough for nightmares.” Emma grimaced, her hand raised as if to block any more information or the smell from reaching her.

 

Scrunching her nose as she retrieved the dart from the board, Regina positioned herself in front of Emma and took careful aim. “So, are we upping the stakes at all, or should this game be less competitive than the last?” she asked. 

 

“Hmm,” Taking a sip of her beer to rid herself of the terrible aftertaste, Emma gave herself a moment to mull it over. “What’s the matter, Regina, afraid I’ll win again?” She had no right to grin so wickedly, and yet Emma couldn’t help herself. If she was good at anything, it was getting under Regina’s skin.

 

Regina drew her an arresting and fearless smile, then flung her dart with precision. The dart stuck into the center of the board, and she strolled over to inspect her perfect bulls-eye. “You were saying?” she taunted, and swayed her hips as she walked over to Emma. 

 

Not far away in her new home, the Queen was also swaying her hips in a mesmerizing undulation. She had re-entered the living room, and without giving pause to find out what Swan was watching, the Queen carried Selena towards a baby mat on the floor. 

 

Above the mat was an arch decked in toys to encourage the baby to reach. The different toys and baubles resembled the creatures that dwelled in the Enchant forest—some of them stuffed with crinkly papers, and others embellished with soft mirrors of Selena’s very own. 

 

The Queen settled Selena on her tummy first, and distracted her with a tiny rattling monkey. 

 

Selena reached for the monkey, but her attention shifted wholly to Swan and she smiled a dimpled and gassy smile. She kicked her feet and tried to get Swan to focus on her. 

 

“So what monkey business are _those two_ up to?” the Queen asked, without glancing back at Swan. “I imagine before the night is through, we’ll have an outcome to our little bet.”

 

“They’re playing darts, so we’ll see how their night unfolds...” Swan lilted, closing the compact mirror with a soft click as her gaze drifted to something far more important. 

 

Selena’s big eyes were on her, and she waved both of her little fists in a happy display that compelled Swan to sink to her knees and stretch out cat like to brush her fingertips against the child’s soft tuft of hair. “I see you.” She cooed. “Did you have a good dinner?” Swan’s breathy tone was light and warm. Selena’s tiny hand unfurled to snag onto her pinky. 

 

Selena gurgled nonsense in response and Swan nodded earnestly as if she understood it perfectly. “That’s right,” Swan agreed. “It’ll make you big and strong.”

 

Swan inched closer and brought her painted lips to Selena’s chubby cheeks, peppering them with butterfly kisses that left the infant squealing with glee. 

 

Selena wobbled precariously, using all her strength to keep her head up, until Swan gently rolled her onto her back, then strummed the various, dangling toys that invited Selena to grab for them.

 

Selena’s attention went straight to them, and she happily waved her arms in excitement as she tried to catch them.

 

The Queen propped herself up on one hand and studied Swan’s carefree appearance as she became so wholly wrapped up in their daughter. “She has your appetite,” the Queen shared. “When she was born, she came out screaming and ravenous. When she cries the loudest, it’s always because of hunger.” 

 

Tiny streams of magic came from the Queen’s fingertips, giving the toys more lifelike traits and sounds that would no doubt fascinate Selena. The lion opened its mouth to roar quietly, and the elephant blew its trunk. 

 

“She’s your child through and through,” The Queen breathed. “Some days, she was the last little bit of life I had in me. . . the last little bit I ever thought I’d have of you. . . .” 

 

Like golden light falling spangled on dark water, the Queen’s eyes shimmered and she instinctively reached for Swan. She brimmed with tenderness and raw need. 

 

Bending down, the Queen claimed Swan’s lips in an impulsive kiss, biting and ferocious but also desperate and pleading. 

 

As she remembered herself, the Queen withdrew and sat unexpectedly still, at a loss for how to swerve around this emotional moment she had created. “It’s a good thing your dagger will be mine soon,” she intoned. “Then I’ll have all of you.” 

 

The taste of the Queen’s emotions burst like ripe fruit against Swan’s lips, and Swan licked at the traces that remained. Savoring the slight tang and sweetness that gave away more than the Queen no doubt intended. _Finally,_ a crack in the mask of madness. A tentative sign that there was still _hope_ for her, for them, however fragile it may be.

 

Swan rose to her knees with such fluidity that it couldn’t have been natural, and she reached out to cradle the Queen’s chin in her palm. When their eyes met Swan leaned in to husk, “Have me now.” Her hand traced the hard line of the Queen’s jaw then settled at the nape of her neck, drawing her closer. “And I shall have you.” It was sultry whisper that tickled warm breath against the Queen’s lips a fraction of a second before Swan captured them passionately. Her tongue delved into the Queen’s mouth to glide sensually against hers.

 

“After play time, let’s put Selena to bed,” the Queen murmured. “Then we’ll have some play time of our own.” 

 

The Queen indulged the kiss for long enough that her dark red lipstick smeared. She held Swan in a rapturous, one-handed chokehold that she eventually released when she realized how hard her fingers were straining.

 

How fortunate that death would elude Swan unless the dagger was used. Swan never flinched in the face of the Queen’s brutal grip; in fact, she leaned in with a slow smile as sharp fingernails dug into her pale flesh. All those conflicting emotions that swirled within her lover needed to be expressed, and if that meant they would be taken out on Swan, so be it.

 

The Queen pulled back with an attempted wink. Her long lashes fluttered flirtatiously and her smile brightened at the promise of what their evening would hold. 

 

On her play mat, Selena grabbed onto the lion that dangled in her face, and forcefully yanked at its head. 

 

The Queen noticed out of the corner of her eye and remarked, “Her appetite is all you. But that, she gets from me. She’s very persistent when she knows what she wants.”

 

Swan watched their daughter, her little face determined as she caught and released the lion that softly roared. “She’s going to be strong, just like you. Unafraid of new things, or the world around her.” It brought a smile to her lips, the kind that only love could, and she clasped the Queen’s hand. The very same one that had moments before had wrapped so tightly around her throat. “When I look at her, I see the best of both of us.” She quietly confessed. Whatever happened between them, that would always remain true.

 

The Queen leaned in, her eyes luminous and intense as she stared directly into Swan’s soul. She found only the deepest devotion to her and their daughter reflected in Swan’s unwavering look. 

 

It brought the Queen to her impossibly high melting point, changing her demeanor from cold and hard to complete mush. Where she would normally rebel against such weakness, the Queen stayed mellow and subdued. She gathered Selena into her arms, and silently carried her away to the nursery with Swan close at her back. 

 

“You could change her for bed, if you’d like,” the Queen offered, sounding strangely girlish and vulnerable. She had no recollection of sitting down, but suddenly Swan was holding the baby and the Queen perched in the rocking chair. 

 

Swan dressed their daughter in a cozy sleeper while the Queen fixated on a vacant space in the nursery. Tiny shudders crawled up her spine, and she blinked away the overwhelming emotion that had briefly taken hold of her. 

 

Swan eyed the Queen as if watching the beginnings of thick ice begin to melt. On the surface it still looked intact, but one wrong step and the whole thing would shatter remarkably and take her down with it. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, to drown in the Queen. Baptized in all of her volatility. 

 

The thought of Selena broke through Swan’s dark thoughts, a fractured source of light that beckoned Swan from the depths of her mind. “How about I make us both a drink?” She mused.

 

With a slow, confident strut, Swan held her hand out for the Queen to take, then led them down to the kitchen. After some deliberation, she selected two long stemmed glasses and let her magic do the rest. In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure what went into apple martinis, but they seemed to be one of the Queen’s favorites. “Now,” She lilted, handing one off as she sipped the other. “Shall we check on those two as we enjoy this fruity concoction? I imagine you’ve been having fun interfering with their date.” Offering the mirror back to the Queen, Swan peered at her curiously and awaited her answer.

 

The Queen looped her arm through Swan’s as she took the first sip of the deliciously strong drink. “Emma is an easy a target,” she drawled, and snatched up the mirror to check her hair. Then she allowed the mirror to shimmer, and reveal the scene unfolding at the bar. 

 

Regina had a lucky streak at darts, and she flaunted her wins with as much pomp as the Queen might. “What’s going on, Emma?” she asked, with a touch of confusion and humor in her voice. “Where has all of your bravado gone? You seem defeated. Self-conscious. You’re even walking differently.” 

 

“Just a leg cramp. Nothing to worry about.” Emma quickly set the record straight by lying her face off. She smirked at Regina and the way she held her darts like trophies, and then straightened up. She made a show of stretching before grabbing her own darts, and in quick succession, impaling them into the board with mixed levels of precision. Not quite a bullseye, but close enough –– a double twenty and unfortunately, a three. “I’ll catch up to you in no time, and then you’re in trouble.” She teased, and awkwardly swaggered off to retrieve her darts. _This thing between her legs was unwieldy, but at least her spell had worked._

 

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do with me when you catch me?” Regina husked, subtly licking her lip in a hungry way as she passed by Emma. She had forgotten to take another swig of her potion and the alcohol was beginning to get to her. Although she floated around with her usual ease and grace, she became so distracted with watching Emma walk that she tripped over her own two feet. In the process, she dropped all of her darts and nearly fell on top of them, but Emma grabbed her before she met that fate. “Looks like you _literally_ caught me,” she chuckled. 

 

Emma had swooped down and now was positioned in a low crouch, with Regina practically resting in her lap. 

 

Regina placed a hand on Emma’s cheek, but as she shifted she felt something long and rigid against pressed her ass and between her naked thighs. “Um, Emma,” she breathed. “What the hell is that?”

 

“Would you believe me if I said it was a nightstick?” Emma’s smile, though flirty, wobbled slightly as a blush scalded up her neck and left her face red. “Okay here’s the thing,” How could she explain this without sounding like a dumbass? The alcohol in her system said with confidence, but she wasn’t so sure.

 

“When we were having dinner I—uh—I must have accidentally done something. Long story short, I can’t get it off.” Emma grinned, because what else could she do but marvel at her own fuck up. “I didn’t want to make a fool of myself and tell you so I just – _you know._ ” She made a slight motion with her hand as she bashfully glanced into Regina’s eyes. “Concealed it with magic.”

 

“Concealed? It might not be visible to the naked eye, but you couldn’t have been any more inconspicuous with how you were walking,” Regina remarked, unable to hide the way her lips curled faintly in amusement. “It feels like I’m sitting on a baseball bat. I suppose you could make a joke about rounding third base with me tonight, and then scoring a home run—” 

 

Emma looped both of Regina’s arms around her neck and then gently stood up to set Regina back on her feet. 

 

“Has that been on your mind a lot tonight?” Regina quietly asked. “I mean, it might explain your current predicament.”

 

“See, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” Emma sighed dramatically, though the roll of her eyes wasn’t sincere. “Has my mind been on the fact that your panties are currently in my pocket instead of on you? Yeah, just a little bit, but in my defense I never consciously thought of wearing this or using it. I mean, technically I haven’t even bought it yet!” She frowned, wetting her lip thoughtfully with the tip of her tongue. “And I have no idea where the boxers came from. Maybe my magic thought it was a package deal.” She smirked at the pun, pleased with herself as she leaned against the wall and shrugged.

 

“I must say I am impressed with how long you’ve managed to keep your spell in place,” Regina admitted, and blatantly checked Emma out for any sign that it might soon drop away. “That said, maybe this is a good time to bring our date to an end?” 

 

Emma’s mouth opened as though she were about to protest, but then she realized the time. It was just after ten, and they had spent hours enjoying each other’s company. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that.” She acquiesced, and began walking out of the bar with Regina in tow. “So,” She exhaled softly, sticking her hands into her pockets to rock on her heels as she eyed Regina. “Are we walking, or poofing off?” Neither of them was sober enough to drive and the idea of climbing into a taxi made Emma cringe.

 

Regina stepped in close to Emma, and took both of her hands as if planning to lead them in a slow dance. Her magic swirled around them like the ends of a formal dress, and then they were standing in her living room. “Coffee?” she offered. She freed Emma from her hold, and then started off for the kitchen. Indecisively, she stared at the coffee maker, and then used a tiny burst of magic to fill two cups.

 

“It’s instant,” Regina joked as she returned to Emma, and then thrust a hot latte into her hand. 

 

Regina assumed that at this point of the evening, she and Emma would be tearing each other’s clothes off and competing for dominance in bed. But instead they were standing five feet apart, and Regina took a sip of coffee in the ensuing awkward silence. “We should…” Regina began, and then gestured at the sofa. She could have suggested they go right upstairs, but instead she blurted out, “Sit? Talk?” 

 

“Uh, sure…” Emma murmured, eyeing Regina with a perplexed frown on her face. How had they gone from being so flirtatious to mumbling over coffee? She chalked it up to the thing that was strapped to her. After that not-so-little revelation, the date had ended and now here they were, more awkward than the first time they had met. 

 

Emma no sooner sat down than she bounced back up again, placing her coffee on the table. “Just gonna run to the bathroom,” She explained. “Back in a minute.”

 

She detoured to the kitchen for the large pair of scissors she had seen Regina cut through chicken bones with, and then hurried into the downstairs bathroom with a plan in mind. She shimmied her pants down and tried to slice through the fabric straps that were secured around her hips. As she squeezed the scissors shut, one of the blades snapped off and landed in the toilet. The strap remained intact without a single frayed thread. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Exasperated, Emma pulled her pants up and stormed out of the bathroom. She left the broken scissors behind, and sank back into her seat in the living room with a scowl. “Thanks for the coffee.” She muttered, picking it back up to sip. 

 

“You’re welcome,” Regina replied, all while staring down into the black coffee in her own cup. “Did you have any trouble in the bathroom? I heard a noise and some cursing.” From where she sat on the other end of the sofa, she could see the outline of the strap-on quite clearly through Emma’s pants. “Speaking of curses, I think you might actually have a problem there.” 

 

"No shit." Emma grumbled under her breath. She couldn't walk around town for days with _that_ swinging between her legs.

 

Regina scooted over and let her hands hover over Emma’s lap, to get a sense of the magical signature. “It would seem this is a _very generous_ gift from Swan.” 

 

“How thoughtful of her.” Emma remarked, caught between that precarious place of humiliation and annoyance. “I’m starting to think that my bad luck today might have been intentional.” She shrugged, offering Regina a crooked smile as she leaned closer as if sharing a secret. “Joke is on them. I still had a really great day.” Emma’s gaze dropped to linger on Regina’s mouth, and then she ruined the moment by speaking without thinking first. “Your lips have broken a curse before. Why don’t we try using them?” It dawned on her a moment later how her question might interpreted. Her eyes went wide and bright as she stumbled to correct herself. “I mean to kiss me—not, _you know,_ how it sounded.”

 

Regina sucked her teeth and puckered her lips at Emma’s flub, but it did little to prevent her from bursting into laughter. “Alright, I’m willing,” she agreed. “If I don’t succeed in getting _it_ off, at least perhaps _I’ll get you_ off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave us a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly smut, and it's a bit kinky. Avoid if you don't like that.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the spacious room. The air felt thick and warm and filled with static energy that left their skin tingling. 

 

Emma gasped, her eyes closing as she groaned softly, “Fuck, Regina. _Harder._ ” 

 

They had been entangled like this for almost an hour, sweat slicked and eager. Their hands fought for dominance until finally Regina had taken control and Emma’s muscles strained and ached from exertion, but it still wasn’t _enough._

 

“Please…” Emma begged, her arms trembling and her fingers curling. “ _Don’t stop._ So close.” The words were a breathless whisper that ended in a pained grunt. 

 

Emma’s soft pleading changed to a snarl as she landed on her ass with a hard thump for the fifth time that night. 

 

No matter what Regina did, the strap-on still remained intact. 

 

“It won't come off! Fuck this thing!” Emma spat, frustration spilling from her like gasoline. It would only take the smallest spark and she would go up in angry flames.

 

Across town, Swan quirked an eyebrow and smirked slyly, “That’s exactly what Regina _should_ do.” She raised a glass of wine so red it resembled blood and took a sip. “That’s the smartest thing Emma has said all night.” 

 

Thoroughly amused by the antics of Regina trying to forcibly pull the contraption off Emma, Swan turned to find the Queen looking back at her. “I’m surprised Regina hasn’t come to that conclusion yet.” Devious as ever, Swan basked in her clever little plan. “Sooner or later, Regina will make the first move to rescue the poor savior, and your heart will be mine.”

 

The Queen sat with her chin in her palm and a terribly bored look on her face. She turned to Swan with a skeptical glare and rolled her eyes. “As if,” she scoffed. “Emma is making _my_ pussy dry. I swear, when the two of you split, you got all the brains, and she got the better head of hair. I can only imagine what Regina must be feeling right now. I seriously doubt she’s in any mood to put out. I mean. . . just _look_ at yourself.” She gestured at Emma, whose face was brick red as she sat in her underwear and tank top. Both she and Regina had worked up a sweat, attempting spells and potions and using all manner of tools to free Emma from her curse. “There’s no rescuing _that._ I’ll send you an invitation to the funeral I’m holding for my libido.” 

 

The smile on Swan’s lips turned sly. With two fingers, she snapped the compact mirror closed and quirked a pale eyebrow in amusement. “So dramatic.” She lilted, swiveling in her chair to fully appraise the Queen. _She did have a point._ Perhaps the small curse had backfired just a smidgen, preventing an immediate resolution to their bet. Still, that didn’t mean there would be any less _action._

 

Leaning closer, Swan brought one palm up to caress the air in front of the Queen with a low hum. “I can feel your frustration burning from here. Hardly a sign of anything dead.” Coyly, she tipped her chin up, a smug confidence radiating from her as though she had already won. 

 

“All this competitive energy you’ve bottled up has left you ready to pop.” Swan enunciated the word, no doubt riling the Queen when she moved into her personal space to brush the tip of her nose along the length of her neck, her lips hovering near her ear as she seductively husked, “You’re not upset that they aren’t fucking. You’re upset because we aren’t.” Devilishly, Swan captured the Queen’s lips in a fierce, biting kiss while her hands began tearing demandingly at the clothes that were frankly in the way of what she was wanted. 

 

Swan moaned softly, feeling the intense heat as her hand pushed inside the slick, lace panties to cup the Queen’s bare sex possessively. “You’re very wet for someone who lost her libido.” She taunted, freeing her hand to admire the arousal that coated it. “It seems our night is just beginning. Now what am I going to do with you?” She asked, her dark eyes watching the Queen’s expression while her own reflected her excitement.

 

The Queen kissed Swan rapturously, then she snapped her teeth angrily. “If you have to ask for instructions, you’re just as hopeless as Emma,” she declared. She pushed a painted finger against Swan’s chest, which she dragged down until her hand grazed Swan’s belt. Unbuckling it, the Queen swiftly drew it off and studied the leather. “Has it truly been so long that you’ve forgotten everything that turns me on?” she purred, and thrust the belt into Swan’s hand as she delivered a smoldering glare in parting. She strutted casually back to the couch, all while shedding what little clothing she had left before she sprawled out comfortably to await Swan’s move.

 

Following the Queen with a slow swagger, Swan stopped short of where she rested and smirked lazily. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time we slept together I made you come so hard you basically struck me with lightning.” Her dark eyes glinted with something deliciously wicked as she unfurled her leather belt and lightly trailed it over the Queen’s thigh.

 

“Are you planning on doing that again?” Swan asked lightly, the corners of her lips twitching upwards as if she wasn’t entirely against the idea. 

 

A little punishment could certainly make things more interesting, and pain dealt correctly could make pleasure all the sweeter. They had plenty of experience with that. “I know how much it excites you, _Regina._ ” Swan lilted as she sank down, blanketing the Queen with her own leather clad body, her hands snaring her wrists to hold above her head as she hissed. “It’s been so long, I bet you’re dying to play.”

 

The Queen attempted to twist her wrists free of Swan’s tight hold. She bucked her hips as if to shake Swan off, but it became more about rubbing her pussy against Swan’s leg than about altering their positioning. “I do like a dangerous game,” she husked, her voice dripping with sex appeal. “Though a Dark One never plays fair. Perhaps I shouldn’t agree so readily, since you so blatantly cheated at our little wager. Not to mention, was it just my imagination, or did you give Emma’s plaything an enlargement? Feeling a bit inadequate, Swan?” She pursed her lips critically, and a smile spread over her face—a mask both jeering and flawless — but still somehow kept in place by no more than a delicate string. 

 

The Queen’s expressive eyes gave away all of her longing. 

 

The sly smirk on Swan’s lips remained, while she tsked in faux disappointment. “You’ve always been a sore loser, your Majesty, but accusing me of cheating? You sabotaged them last night, and you meddled with Emma all day. Did you really expect me to sit back and do nothing to even the playing field?” 

 

Of course she didn’t. Knowing the Queen, she likely had hoped Swan would discover her ploy and act sooner. No wonder she appeared to overflow with frustration. 

 

Swan splayed herself fully atop the Queen, like a black cat stretching luxuriously in the warmth that radiated from the Queen’s annoyance. There was something to be said about being fully clothed around someone naked. It granted an almost palpable tension, and Swan enjoyed it unabashedly. 

 

Shifting just so, Swan pinned the Queen in place and dragged her lips across her high cheekbone with every sultry word she uttered, “You underestimate what Regina can take on a daily basis. I thought I’d show you that she can handle more than you expect.” It was a subtle and insidious little taunt that would eat at the Queen until it manifested in a unique way to prove herself. 

 

Swan counted on it as she swiped her tongue over the Queen’s racing pulse and bit down roughly, claiming her with teeth until she squirmed beneath her.

 

The Queen’s eyes flashed in excitement and hypnotically darted back and forth as she stared up at Swan. “Is that so? Anything Regina can do, I can do better – and bigger,” she boasted. “But you hoped I’d say that, didn’t you? That is one of your predilections. Testing every one of my limits.” She threw her head back to expose the column of her neck for Swan. 

 

Not one to disappoint, Swan sucked at her neck and left behind a trail of dark red bites. Her teeth sank into sensitive flesh beneath her chin, and she kissed all the way down to the Queen’s collarbones. “Mark me,” the Queen moaned. “Don’t get soft on me now.” 

 

This dynamic thrilled them both—with the Queen’s taunts and demands provoking Swan until she showed her dominance. 

 

Swan’s sharp nails scraped down the Queen’s arms from wrists to elbows, branding her with vivid streaks of possession. She latched onto her shoulder, sucking at the flesh roughly only to lap at the dark purple bruise with her tongue. 

 

The contrast would enrich the experience, and she grinned as her right hand clasped around the Queen’s throat. Flexing her fingers, Swan’s grip tightened just enough to border on threatening, and she leaned down to take a dusky nipple into her mouth. She flicked her tongue over the stiff peak. Her free hand palmed the Queen’s other breast, pinching and tweaking the sensitive nipple.

 

Swan slipped her knee between the Queen’s to give her something to grind against. Just as the Queen went to move her arms again, Swan’s dark magic snaked out to bind her wrists with her belt, and she laughed darkly. “You’ll have to try harder than that, your majesty.” She husked, pushing her thigh fully against the Queen’s bare pussy. 

 

The way the leather slid deliciously against her hot center could only mean the Queen was soaked, and Swan chose that moment to stand up. With a quirked eyebrow, she let her gaze drop to her pants as though inspecting them and tutted “What a mess.” She whispered coolly. 

 

Without warning, Swan grabbed the Queen by the chin and made her look at the sticky arousal that coated the dark leather. “Lick it clean.” She husked authoritatively. 

 

Against Dark One magic, the Queen could hardly wage war, but she felt a tickle in her fingertips that flowed through her as she leaned in to oblige. She tasted herself curiously, and with a dark gleam of confidence in her eyes that would no doubt motivate Swan to action, to take an even stronger hand. 

 

The Queen let some of her own moisture collect on her bottom lip and then sat up as casually as if she was at a party. “Want a taste?” she lilted, as if completely unaffected by anything Swan might do. She waited until she was eye level with Swan, until their lips came together and they kissed erotically, both impassioned by what they shared and the flavor of the Queen in their mouths. Her magic slipped free then, up and around Swan’s legs like chains, divesting her of dark leather and any expectation that this would be easy. 

 

“Did you really think you had tamed me?“ The Queen really showed her teeth then, biting back animalistically, and dragging Swan down to the floor. The belt dropped away from her wrists and she picked it up again to slap at the bare inside of Swan’s thigh. This behavior would only get her into trouble, but the Queen desired a harsh punishment. She went to crack the belt again, only to find Swan rising fluidly and powerfully to take it from her. The tables turned so fast that the Queen trembled from it.

 

Swan had been so lenient that the Queen forgot how aggressive she could be, but she remembered as Swan restrained her — not just with the belt, but this time with the proper cuffs and ropes. The Queen found herself face down on the sofa, with her ass raised high in the air. Swan’s hands gripped at both of her ass cheeks, and then squeezed her aroused pussy.

 

“Someone’s feeling feisty tonight.” Swan drawled, though despite her tone she was anything but bored. Nothing got her blood racing faster than the Queen battling her for power. 

 

They fed off one another, their urges spiking higher. Swan knew that whatever she did now, the Queen would gladly retaliate, and then some. How could she possibly resist? 

 

“Such a pretty sight, seeing you like this. You’re dripping already.” Affectionately, Swan smoothed her palm over the Queen’s backside, admiring the proud way it was displayed. _Yours for the taking,_ the darkness hissed inside her head, and with a slight twist of lips Swan struck the left cheek with her full palm. The sharp noise filled the air, and she smiled at the way the Queen tensed, then relaxed. “Prepared for another?” The teasing remark barely left her lips when Swan struck again, and again, and again. Her hand landed in a flurry of light, then rougher smacks that began to leave the Queen’s voluptuous backside a cherry red. Enough to have her writhing as pain exploded across her ass, transforming to a deliciously hot throb that pulsed straight to her glistening pussy. 

 

Swan watched as it clenched expectantly, and ran a finger between the Queen’s slick lips to feel the heat within. “See how much you’re enjoying this?” She taunted, showing the Queen her slick arousal with a bright, though wicked grin.

 

Being restricted this way sent spirals of extreme excitement through the Queen, even if that excitement was balanced with an occasional jolt of fear. Her breathing deepened and her glossy lips parted in a quiet moan as her body tingled with exhilaration from every smack Swan delivered against her ass. “You have the better view,” she exhaled. “Which is how I like it. I want you to look.” 

 

The Queen turned her neck to watch as Swan opened her smooth pussy and openly admired her. 

 

“You are the only one who can have me this way,” the Queen whispered. The ropes moved around her, caressing her as they bound her skin. “I won’t submit to any other.” 

 

Those words had the darkness within Swan buzzing, her veins transformed to livewires, sparking with desire. It itched to ensnare the Queen even as Swan reeled from the statement. She inhaled sharply, the hard glint in her eyes fading with every hopeful thump of her heart. The game had changed, shifting to something far more dangerous: their feelings.

 

Swan’s hand landed heavy against the Queen’s ass cheek, but then kneaded her with far more gentleness than the Queen expected. She shuddered and braced herself for another hit, yet this time Swan rubbed her pussy. 

 

Her large hand palmed the Queen’s warm pussy with a tenderness that neither of them would mention. With delicate fingers, she parted the Queen’s puffy lips, exposing the moisture that gathered between them and Swan groaned low in her throat at the sight of it. “All for me.” She husked, her pulse racing from the view of hot pink that glistened invitingly. 

 

Swan began circling her fingertip around the Queen’s entrance to watch the way it clenched enticingly, trying to pull her inside. Splaying her free hand against the Queen’s lower back, Swan eased two fingers knuckle deep inside her wet pussy with a low rumble. “I’ve missed feeling you wrap around me this way.” It was risky, to express such a thing, but she chose to stand by it as she began pumping her fingers in and out of the Queen, her pace fast and relentless as she opened her up inside.

 

Soft, honeyed moans came from the Queen as she presented her pussy to Swan for the taking. Her legs splayed as much as possible and Swan devotionally caressed her deeper. If the urge to mock or belittle came over her, the Queen kept her mouth shut and focused solely on the sensation of the experience. 

 

The ropes then slithered away from the Queen’s small frame. She shifted in surprise and Swan effortlessly lifted her into her arms to carry her up the stairs to their bedroom. 

 

 

Meanwhile, Regina rushed down her own staircase and into her study. She fetched two tumblers of ice and her strongest bottle of cider, and brought the bounty to Emma in the living room. 

 

“I have one last ‘potion’ for you to try,” Regina declared as she passed over a strong glass of alcohol. 

 

“Drink up,” Regina encouraged, but as soon as Emma raised the glass to her lips, she began to strip off her dress. 

 

Regina stood before Emma in lingerie and heels – a bra that pushed her breasts enticingly forward and heels that could impale a man. She should have been wearing a thong that just barely covered the slim line of her pussy lips, but because her panties were in Emma’s pocket, she had nothing but her hands to conceal her body from view.

 

“What?” Regina asked at Emma’s slack-jawed look. “You’re sitting around in your underwear. I thought I’d join you. If we can’t beat the Queen or Swan at their manipulative game, we might as well return to what we were doing before.” 

 

 _Each other,_ Regina had the urge to say, because apparently Emma needed it to be spelled out for her yet again. But Regina only squinted instead and kept her temper in check. “Our date, remember?” She sipped her glass of cider and leaned in closer to Emma, raking her eyes down the front of her tank top and boxers. 

 

“We were going to…” 

 

 _Fuck. Please, will you just finally fuck me?_ Regina’s eyes conveyed. 

 

“Talk,” Regina finished weakly, but then she perked up and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You’ve slept with a woman before, I presume? Tell me what turns you on, Emma.”

 

If she had to bombard Emma with questions to make progress, Regina would do just that. “Have you always used toys, or is this a first for you?” she brazenly asked. “Are you inclined to take the lead, or do you prefer a more submissive role in bed? And do you like hearing your lover say your name, or is there another name you’d like me to call you when you’re inside of me?” 

 

“Jesus, you want my blood type and star sign too?” Emma blurted, eyes wide. Gulping down the cider in an attempt to quell the sudden, fizzling nerves that left her jittery, Emma licked her lips and tried not to panic. Her knee bounced with excess anxiety, doing her no favors as the toy bounced with it. But she was so taken by the sight of Regina’s nakedness that she only realized when Regina’s dark eyes dropped to her lap with a quirked eyebrow and salacious smirk. 

 

“If you make a joke about me being happy to see you…” Emma groaned, and forced herself to sit still.

 

Raising her free hand, Emma answered each question as if ticking off a list, using her fingers to keep track as she spoke. “I haven’t slept with any women.” Swan’s taunt from the other night ricocheted around her mind and she felt herself tensing. _Poor savior, the only woman ever inside her is herself._

 

“Never used one of these.” Emma muttered, waving absently to the bulge barely concealed by the boxers. “I have used toys on myself though and—” 

 

Emma paused, straightening up as if remembering who she was, or perhaps recovering some of her lost confidence as she let her gaze trail over Regina appreciatively. “I take the lead.” At least, from the way she puffed herself up, Emma certainly hoped to take the lead. “I’m not sure how I’d feel about being submissive, but I trust you.”

 

Emma nodded then, as if agreeing with herself as she drained the rest of her cider and exhaled flirtatiously, “I kind of miss hearing you call me Miss Swan.” She caught Regina’s eyes and shrugged. “Or Sheriff, in that tone of yours. It always did get me going, but you probably knew that.”

 

“Well then, Sheriff,” Regina gestured vaguely, then moved her hair and shoulders to give Emma access to her bra clasp. “Perhaps you can help me with this?” 

 

Regina shuddered in anticipation as Emma fingered the clasp, unhooked it and slid the straps off of her. 

 

Her nipples pebbled and Regina wet her thumb with her tongue, then rubbed each of them until they turned scarlet with arousal. “Since you were kind enough to answer my questions, I’ll also share what I like,” she replied. “I enjoy foreplay and plenty of dirty talk. I want you to praise me and go slow as you build me up.” 

 

Regina placed her hand over Emma’s thigh to break the tension between them, and to take away any last doubts Emma might have. 

 

“I would have liked to taste you first, and that’s the only reason I put so much effort into trying to remove the strap-on,” Regina confessed and let her hand glide up Emma’s inner thigh, until she boldly slipped it beneath the waistband of the boxers. 

 

Even with the harness in the way, Regina was able to push her fingers underneath and coat them in Emma’s arousal. 

 

Regina licked her own lips and then kissed Emma voraciously, smiling as her tongue flicked side to side before she sucked eagerly. 

 

Regina’s fingers quested blindly to find the sensitive and straining part of Emma, so swollen and eager to be stroked. She moved off of the couch and onto her knees between Emma’s legs, then drew Emma’s boxers down swiftly. She pressed her face close enough to breathe in the aroma and kissed along Emma’s thighs. Her fingers grazed Emma’s clit, all while she leaned experimentally over the toy. 

 

Curiosity took over, and Regina gathered Emma’s excitement on her hand, enough to completely cover the shaft in front of her face. “I’m going to lick all of this off of you while I make you come with my hand,” she explained. 

 

“Afterwards, I expect you to be so aroused that I can coat this again before I let you take over and slide it inside of me,” Regina added. 

 

Shock caused the breath in Emma’s throat to catch. “Regina, holy shit…” Emma swallowed thickly, her toes curling into the carpet. “If this is your dirty talk then I’m definitely into it.” Part of Emma wanted to protest. This wasn’t how their night was supposed to go, at least, not with what was stuck to her, but feeling Regina’s fingers on her was enough to stop her from making such an asinine comment.

 

All that nervous energy bubbled down to a low simmer that left her feeling incredibly warm, and Emma found herself unable to look away from Regina. She moaned at the sight of Regina’s hand around the shaft, smearing her essence across it. A jolt of pleasure took her by surprise, and she squirmed slightly on the couch. “Have you done this before?” It was a risky question, but there was no jealousy in Emma’s voice, only the low husk of lust that had her enraptured with every move Regina made. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if I’d enjoy this.” She motioned to the toy almost flippantly, her eyes never wavering from Regina’s. “But you’re just so damn sexy that I can’t help but love it already.”

 

Regina nuzzled into the soft place between Emma’s leg and pussy, nipping with her teeth before she gave her full attention to lapping up all of Emma’s arousal. “I love the way you taste,” she rumbled. “And I always find ways to get what I want. To answer your question quite plainly: no, I haven’t done this creative little act before. Do you think I would make it a habit of getting down on my knees for just anyone?” She puckered her mouth over the spot where most of Emma’s sticky arousal collected. As she gave the tip a thorough lashing with her tongue, she locked her eyes on Emma with a stare so intense it could put her into a trance. “This is between you and me, Emma,” she explained. “I would never do this with anyone else.”

 

Emma exhaled slowly, her hooded eyes glazing as she reached for Regina’s hand to entwine their fingers. Not quite brave enough yet to slip her hand into her dark hair. She smirked despite herself, “Now that you mention it, I can’t imagine you kneeling for anyone.” Yet here Regina was, right in front of her, with her luscious lips grazing over silicone just to sate her desires. A soft, barely there moan formed in the back of Emma’s throat and she felt liquid pool between her legs in response. “I’d never do this with anyone else either, Regina. I’ve been waiting for you”- _my whole life_ \- “for so long.” Emma rasped, bringing Regina’s hand up to kiss across her knuckles and down her wrist. 

 

Regina swiped her tongue in long and thorough paths that satisfied her craving for Emma. Her fingers worked in synchrony with her mouth, following the same motions to awaken Emma’s body. Their need and love for each other radiated between them, as palpable as the heat on their skin. 

 

“The wait is over,” Regina exhaled. “And it feels so good to finally do this with you.” Her eyes rolled back in her head as she expressed how deliriously pleasurable it was to experience this with Emma. She bent forward to suck with more intensity and circled Emma’s clit at the perfect speed. 

 

“Oh god, Regina…” Emma whispered her name like it was a prayer. The firm, though feather light touch against her most sensitive area evoked a stuttered gasp from her. Instinctively, she cupped Regina’s cheek with her other hand, caressing with her palm as her thumb stroked along Regina’s cheek bone tenderly. It was the first time a lover had cared enough to stimulate her mind along with her body and fuck if it didn’t feel amazing. 

 

Emma’s entire body reacted until her whole world was in Regina’s fingers, and she unabashedly rolled her hips as pleasure sparked and tingled through her abdomen and legs. “I need, please—” 

 

Every breath became heavier than the last. Emma’s face was flushed as she bit back a moan to husk, “A little faster…”

 

Regina’s fingers raced in tight spirals, all while she brushed her lips over the toy between Emma’s legs. She swallowed down as much of Emma as she could, but her unquenchable lust led her to force her face more insistently against Emma’s lap. “I need this just as much as you do,” she whispered. 

 

Emma’s rising tension felt exquisite, the slick friction so buzzing and warm that Regina moaned. “Give it to me. Feel my hand on you. My mouth on you, so hot and inviting. I want you to come for me. I’m going to lick up every last drop.” She rubbed Emma with quick precision, knowing just how to heighten her bliss.

 

"Oh, fuck..." Emma groaned, her hand falling to Regina's shoulder to ground herself as the first spasm of euphoria rippled through her muscles. Even in her wildest fantasies Emma hadn't expected to hear that from Regina and it showed on her face as a moan tore from her throat. "Regina, just like that, I'm—" 

 

White hot pleasure burst within Emma, stealing her breath and all of her control with it. She went rigid for a precarious second, stunned by the intensity only to melt, boneless against the seat as she trembled in ecstasy.

 

As Emma went limp, Regina licked up the remaining stickiness, and then erotically cleaned her fingers off with her mouth. She rose from the floor and stretched her legs as she peered down at Emma while she recovered. “Did I ever give you a tour of my house?” She asked casually, then strutted across the living room with confidence in her stiletto heels. 

 

“Uh, no, you always said I was too clumsy to be let loose in the mansion.” Emma sprang to her feet once she caught her breath. 

 

Regina bit down on her bottom lip flirtatiously, and then gestured as if they should let bygones be bygones. “Well, you’ll have supervision. I’d like to show you around and give you an orgasm in every room,” she proposed.

 

Emma grinned drunkenly from all of the pleasant emotions swirling around inside her lanky frame. “How many rooms are there, exactly?” She called after Regina, her gaze following the hypnotic sway of her ass. “I can’t wait to make you—”

 

“ _Come for me._ ” Swan husked against the shell of the Queen’s ear. The Queen sat nestled between her legs with her back pressed against her front, her knees bent and draped over Swan’s to keep her open and on display. 

 

Swan’s strong arm wrapped around her midriff to hold her tight, while one hand palmed her breasts, the other moved at dizzying speed. Plunging three fingers into the Queen’s exquisitely wet pussy as her thumb strummed and flicked her hard clit. “Don’t make me ask again.” Swan warned darkly, scraping her teeth against the sensitive skin of the Queen’s neck. Another bruise in the making that she kissed soothingly afterwards. “Show me how much you want this. Clench my fingers as if you intend to break them.”

 

In the possessive embrace, the Queen lacked the willpower to deny Swan anything. She dropped her head back, bending her spine as Swan pumped into her hard. Her gravelly moans and breathless panting revealed how close she was to succumbing to Swan’s demands. She cried out as her pussy crushed Swan’s fingers and her body quaked in sublime pleasure. 

 

Without giving her any time to relax, Swan guided her onto her back and gripped her by the ankles. 

 

“I’ve never seen you this invigorated,” the Queen exhaled, sounding completely winded and spent. “Don’t you need a moment?” She struggled to restore her poise, but Swan would have none of it. 

 

“There’s only one thing I need right now.” Swan smirked devilishly, spreading the Queen’s ankles apart with purpose. Dark magic unraveled from her fingers, coiling around the Queen’s legs just above her knees. It transformed to the softest of silks, and with a flick of her wrist, Swan bound her to the bed spread eagle with only her arms free. 

 

Prowling up the bed, Swan sank down between the Queen’s thighs and inhaled the heady musk of her arousal deeply. “ _You.._ ” She husked, nuzzling into the Queen’s slick folds to part them with her tongue eagerly.

 

The taste evoked a low moan from Swan, and she snared the Queen’s hips to pull her closer against her hungry mouth. 

 

It had been so long since she had her this way that she felt ravenous and it showed in the way she lapped and sucked voraciously. She flicked her tongue over the Queen’s clit, lips wrapping around it as she drew it into the warmth of her mouth to lavish like a piece of hard candy.

 

The Queen’s muscles jumped in over-sensitive surprise. Her thighs quivered in spite of herself, but then she reached down to spread her pussy lips open in invitation. Arousal bathed her thighs and she collected it on her finger, so she could push it into Swan’s mouth. “Such hunger,” she rumbled thickly. “I feel like you’re going to devour me whole.” 

 

Swan accepted the Queen’s offering, her tongue swirling around the finger erotically before she released it with a wet pop. “I am.” She vowed in returned, eyes dark with desire. Her rough hands were surprisingly tender despite the forceful way they kept the Queen’s hips in place, “And you are going to give me everything you’ve got,” she declared.

 

The Queen’s hips rocked with shameless vigor as her breathing became erratic. “Beg for it,” she husked. 

 

Swan greedily ravished the Queen’s pussy with faster, more controlled swipes of her tongue. Delving down to tease and trace the wanting hole that clenched pleasurably around nothing, she swallowed the Queen’s essence as though she were parched. She moaned her enjoyment into the Queen’s core as she relentlessly traced over her stiff bundle of nerves.

 

The Queen’s darker impulses left her longing for sensual degradation—for Swan to completely overpower her, but every time she peered down, all she felt was love and a total connection between them. 

 

It made the Queen tremble more than Swan’s tongue did, and the she surrendered again before she even heard so much as a plea. She thrashed and then went stiff as she drowned in a torrent of satisfaction, unable to breathe or gasp. 

 

With no warning, her magic burned the silks that bound her and the fire blazed up to the bedposts. 

 

Swan extinguished it instantly, with a gust of potent dark magic.

 

Crawling up the bed, Swan grinned wolfishly, her hands pulling the Queen to her as though she weighed nothing. “I’m not finished.” She seductively snarled, then captured the Queen’s mouth with her own to kiss her passionately. Snaking her hand between them, Swan’s fingers parted the Queen’s slippery lips and sought out her liquid heat with a groan of, “We’re done when I say we are, because _tonight—_ ”

 

“It’s my turn to touch you.” Emma exhaled in a rush, wrapping her arms around Regina to deepen their kiss. They barely made it to the study when Emma had caught Regina’s hand and tugged her inside. To hell with getting a tour, she needed to feel Regina now. She couldn’t wait a moment longer. “Please, I’ve been dying for this.” She begged, leading Regina over to the sofa. 

 

With a flick of her wrist the fire soared to life, creating a warm and romantic atmosphere. Emma dropped onto the couch and scooped Regina onto her lap, side saddle. She kissed along Regina’s throat, nipping gently as her fingers tickled and traced up her inner thighs. Her hand cupped Regina’s pussy and she moaned at the warmth. 

 

“God, you’re so wet.” Emma blurted, parting Regina delicately to stroke along her lips with two fingers. “I’ve dreamed of this,” She admitted, circling her fingertips around Regina’s slick entrance before finally pushing inside. Emma gasped at the sensation, the gloriously soft liquid that enveloped her. 

 

“You have?” Regina asked tremulously. Her face flushed as she caught Emma staring down at her body, agape and so focused as she drove two fingers into her pussy. 

 

Both of Regina’s heels slipped off her feet when Emma pushed in deep and spread her index and middle fingers. 

 

She expected this moment to be more driven by sexual need, but Regina felt more emotional when she saw the downright worshipful way Emma looked at her. “What did you dream about?” she whispered. 

 

“Not gonna lie, a lot of the time it was making love to you all over your house. And my house, your office, the station, and the squad car, although that was less love and more, uh—” 

 

Emma looked up at Regina, almost apologetic as she fumbled for a nicer word than _fucking._ “Carnal.”

 

“Oh,” Regina succinctly replied. “Well, it’s time you started acting on all of your desires, Sheriff. Perhaps I’ll have to break some laws, so you can put me in the back of your squad car.” 

 

Emma’s eyes seemed to kaleidoscopically change colors in the firelight as her pupils dilated. Regina gazed into the shifting green and gold, and she leaned in for a slow and sensual kiss. 

 

Their lips brushed in tenderness, neither one of them demanding or too eager. 

 

The kiss lasted and emanated such pure and eternal love that Regina’s whole being trembled from it. A flash of brilliant rainbow light radiated from them. 

 

Regina sat dazed from it and then she glanced down at their current predicament. “True love’s kiss?” she asked, as if perplexed by why it occurred at that particular moment. She attempted to remove the strap-on, only to find that it stubbornly remained in place. 

 

“It would figure that the second I share romantic true love with someone, it doesn’t have the potency to break a curse,” Regina complained. “And the timing doesn’t make sense. We’ve been kissing all night long.”

 

Wide eyed and mind blown, Emma’s fingers stilled within Regina and she sat with her mouth open. She was stunned by the blast of magic and the significance of it, until Regina’s confusion snapped her back to reality and Emma frowned. “That was…” 

 

 _Amazing? Exhilarating? Seriously fucking validating?_

 

“Wow.” Emma mumbled eloquently, at a loss for words.

 

“You know what, who cares why it happened? All that matters is that it did.” Emma grinned, impassioned by the confirmation that they belonged together. She pulled Regina closer for another tender, breath stealing kiss, her fingers curling just so as she began to thrust them again. 

 

The night was already special, but now? Now Emma felt like she was floating, and she wanted Regina to feel that way too. “Rock your hips for me.” Emma encouraged, her thumb circling Regina’s clit.

 

Regina gaped down at Emma in confused silence, but continued to rotate her hips. It was hard to concentrate after the gravity of what took place between them. She scraped her nails across Emma’s arm, grabbing ahold of her as her pleasure mounted. “You’re my true love,” she announced, still sounding baffled by it and suspicious over the circumstances that led to them finding out.

 

“Did you actually just figure out your true feelings for me? Right after you slipped inside of me?” Regina asked, perhaps more shrilly than she intended. 

 

Regina might have pulled away on principle, but she was halted by the sensation of three of Emma’s fingers rubbing her internally. Emma had a natural gift with her hands, and Regina almost resented how much she loved the way Emma touched her. 

 

“Tell me how you feel about me, and what your intentions are, Miss Swan,” Regina demanded with a moody scrunch of her eyebrows. 

 

“How I feel? What my intentions are?” Emma sputtered indignantly, her face a picture of surprise and disbelief, even though her fingers never paused in their movements. “Are you’re serious? I’d say it’s pretty damn evident, Regina.” She quietly spat, rubbing her thumb faster over Regina’s clit in a featherlight caress. 

 

“Wait, are you mad that I’m your true love?” Emma shot back defensively, hooking her fingers inside Regina to stroke against the area that made her tense. 

 

Regina’s audacity was astounding, and if she didn’t feel so addictively warm and soft, Emma might have been even more stubborn and outspokenly defensive. 

 

“Mad?” Regina repeated, then softened because Emma looked so wounded. “It’s not that, Emma. You are everything I ever wanted. I just don’t understand true love magic. Everyone else gets a romantic experience, and it takes sex to awaken true love in us? Every other couple has a story to tell, and we get... – what _even_ was that? You know those t-shirts that complain about traveling so far, and only getting a lousy t-shirt as a souvenir? My true love is the Savior, and after all we’ve been through, all I got was—“ 

 

She groaned, unable to complain when Emma’s fingers delved into her sensitive pussy with precision. Her teeth ground together and her jaw tensed as Emma pounded into her with forceful deep strokes.

 

“That’s not all you’re getting,” Emma smirked, gently slapping the side of Regina’s thigh while keeping her three fingers slotted in her pussy. “I’ll give you more.”

 

Regina glared down at Emma as she rocked her ass and tiny swirls of pleasure began to form deep in her belly. “You’d better,” she sniffed haughtily, but with no trace of agitation. “The fact that you’re good in bed might be all that saves you from my wrath, Miss Swan.”

 

“Stop being so high and mighty, Regina.” Emma’s annoyance may have been more amusement. “I’ve known how I felt about you for a long time, so quit acting as though I’ve done something wrong for finally rubbing you the _right_ way.” 

 

Emma’s gaze held a smugness to it, her fingers moving at an incredibly fast pace to steal Regina’s breath and hopefully her ability to bitch with it. “Concentrate on this,” She insisted, kissing Regina’s shoulder and neck until her lips grazed against her ear. “Focus on me, and come all over my fingers.”

 

Regina’s face flashed like a spot struck by lightning, only it was pure intensity that gleamed in her eyes. Her pussy felt so full with three of Emma’s fingers buried inside of her, and yet wet enough to take more. “ _Em-muh,_ ” she grunted. “ _Miss Swan._ ” She chased the delicious release that Emma promised her until she shook so intensely and came so hard that her legs jittered from the aftershocks.

 

Regina’s chest heaved as she tried to inhale and fixated on Emma. “Take me up to the bedroom now,” she requested, sliding her arm around Emma’s shoulder. “Make good on your promise to give me _more._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always super appreciated. This is half of what we intended to post, but the rest is coming. . .


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